Beneath the Badge Page 8

  Sure, his body had been primed for her, but what man would have turned down an offer of free, unattached sex? For all she knew, he had a woman—or maybe a dozen women—waiting on him when he left Cantara Hills.

  Humiliation stung her cheeks as she showered and dressed. She could not have a repeat episode. Her self-confidence couldn’t endure another rejection.

  Besides, it was better that he’d halted before they’d made love. When he learned Margaret was his mother, and that Taylor had lied to him about hiring the private investigator, he would probably hate them both.

  She twisted her hair into a low knot, added her diamond earrings and watch, then checked the time. Today she was meeting Margaret. Her stomach fluttered. She had to tell her about Hayes.

  How would Margaret react?

  Worse, how would she have felt if Taylor had slept with her son?

  Good heavens, why was she so attracted to him anyway? They had nothing in common.

  Nothing except…maybe that was what she liked about him. He wasn’t interested in her money. Didn’t want anything to do with her society life.

  He was strong, protective, courageous. Rugged.

  A cowboy.

  God, he looked good in that Stetson.

  Her stomach tightened. She’d like to see him wearing nothing but that hat. Her nipples jutted with arousal at the thought, a warm wetness tickling her thighs. He’d tip it low over those eyes, eyes framed by thick black lashes and brows, eyes that would watch her with passion beneath the hat brim as she slowly undressed for him.

  Downstairs, his boots clattered on the marble floor, jerking her from her fantasy, and she pursed her lips, wondering how he’d fared after their interlude, if he’d fantasized about her instead of sleeping.

  Evil thoughts speared her. She hoped he’d been horny as hell and had ached all night after leaving her unsated.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she checked the clock and realized she needed to hurry. She and Margaret had a dress fitting at ten, then lunch at the country club.

  The intercom for the alarm buzzed, and she rushed to answer it, first glancing at the security camera to identify her visitor. A courier with a package, so she pushed the button to open the gate.

  Hayes met her at the front door with a dark look in his eyes. “You just buzzed someone in?”

  “A courier,” she said.

  “What if it was someone pretending to be a courier?”

  She chewed her lip, feeling chastised. She hadn’t thought of that. “I recognized his uniform.”

  She opened the door and accepted the package, her heart stuttering as Hayes took the envelope and examined it.

  “It’s not a bomb,” she said, taking it back. “Just papers.”

  He narrowed his eyes but she simply smiled, then retreated to her office to examine the contents. It was the information from the private investigator. He must have had his mail sent out before he was shot. Inside she found Hayes’s birth certificate and papers Margaret and her father had signed relinquishing custody of him. Another document proved that Hayes was Margaret’s child, and that he’d been sent to live with a family named Keller.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She jerked her head up and saw Hayes watching her from the doorway, then jammed the envelope into her shoulder bag. The intensity in his brooding eyes sent a tingle of anxiety and arousal through her.

  She wanted to tell him the truth. Wanted to comfort him if the news about Margaret being his mother upset him. Wanted to assure him that Margaret had loved and missed him all through the years.

  But she couldn’t. “It’s fine.”

  He studied her for another long moment, a flicker of passion in his eyes as if he was remembering the night before, and her body quivered with longing. She wanted him to touch her again.

  “About last night—”

  “Don’t.” She waved a hand, warding off an apology. She had the good sense to know that throwing herself at him had been a mistake.

  Unfortunately it didn’t make her want him any less or douse the heat lingering between them.

  Then his gaze changed, an emotionless hard mask sliding back into place, the walls between them being erected. “I’m hoping to receive those files from the P.I. today. What’s on your agenda?”

  “I have to meet Margaret for a dress fitting and then lunch.”

  He gave a clipped nod. “All right, I’ll drive.”

  “That’s not necessary,” she said, knowing the day would be awkward enough already.

  His frown deepened, drawing fine lines around his sexy, brooding mouth. “I promised your father I’d take care of you, Taylor, and I’m going to do my job.”

  But nothing else. The unspoken words lay between them.

  Distress laced his eyes, though, as he followed her to the car. She dreaded the talk with Margaret, but it would be even more uncomfortable knowing Hayes was watching.

  Chapter Ten

  Hayes gritted his teeth as Taylor exited the fitting room wearing a strapless, satin, sky-blue dress that dipped halfway to her navel. He’d imagined that babysitting her while she and Margaret tried on dresses would be painful, but the sight of her breasts spilling out of the rows of glittering sequins literally made him physically ache.

  “What do you think, Margaret?” She twirled around, revealing the back of the dress which also dipped downward to the curve of her hips, tiny crisscrossing strips of fabric showcasing the skin beneath.

  “It fits perfectly and enhances your eyes,” Margaret said. “And you can wear the green one to the party.”

  Hayes grimaced. The damn dress would bring out the tongue-wagging men, as well, and have them salivating at her sequined-covered feet.

  Her gaze shot to his, where he stood to the side of the dressing rooms, feeling and looking like an awkward outsider.

  “What do you think, Hayes?”

  Holy hell. She might as well be naked.

  A devilish light flickered in her eyes. The conniving woman was well aware of what the sight of her in that near-nothing fabric was doing to him.

  Memories of the night before assaulted him, when his mouth had suckled her, when his tongue had bathed her nipple, when he’d almost slid his fingers all the way up her thigh and taken them both to heaven.

  He couldn’t forget the sweet taste of her skin or her sultry voice inviting him into her bed, the way she parted her thighs, the way his fingers itched to be inside her.

  How the hell was he going to do his job when all he wanted was to take her someplace, strip her and crawl inside her?

  TAYLOR TOOK A MODICUM of delight in watching Hayes squirm. She pranced in front of the wall of mirrors, swaying her hips and purposely adjusting the straps of the dress to reveal more cleavage. Her nipples felt sensitive as the fabric rubbed against them, stiff points visible through the sheer fabric.

  His look darkened.

  She smiled at him in wicked delight. It served him right for abandoning her in the bedroom the night before.

  But Margaret emerged from the dressing room wearing her wedding gown, decimating any romantic thoughts about Hayes. Her friend looked stunning in the strapless designer dress with overlays of brocade and lace, and a bodice that curved Margaret’s gorgeous figure.

  Tears stung Taylor’s eyes as Margaret paraded in front of the mirror. Margaret had been alone so long; she wanted her friend to be happy. Taylor only hoped that Devon Goldenrod was as sincere in his affections for her friend as he appeared.

  Something niggled at the back of her mind, worrying her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Hayes leaned against the wall near the mirrors, looking bored and completely out of his element. Yet for a brief second, she imagined modeling a wedding gown for him, and a sharp pang of longing rippled through her. She had grown cynical about men after her few disastrous experiences and had given up on marriage.

  Would she ever find a man to love her, not her money and the power afforded by marrying into t
he Landis family?

  “You like the gown, Taylor?” Margaret asked.

  Taylor put aside her own selfish thoughts in lieu of her friend. “You look amazing, Margaret. Devon is lucky to have you.”

  Margaret hugged her, and they chatted about wedding plans for the next few minutes. Hayes yawned, and any fantasies of a possible future with him died.

  Dread cramped her stomach, the slow burn of trepidation tightening her lungs as she and Margaret changed, then Hayes drove her to lunch.

  Neither spoke on the drive to the country club. She was too nervous about the luncheon, and he was obviously bored out of his mind.

  She and Margaret chose to sit at their usual corner table by the window, both preferring the view of the rose gardens and fountain to the golf course. Margaret ordered Perrier and a glass of pinot noir while Taylor ordered a glass of dry white wine.

  Margaret glanced at Hayes who had stationed himself at another table to allow them privacy. “Okay, what’s going on with that ranger, Taylor? Has he discovered your attacker’s identity?”

  Taylor’s stomach fluttered. “No, not yet.”

  Margaret sipped her wine. “I know it has to be awkward having him in your house. He seems so…angry all the time.”

  Goodness, this wasn’t going to be easy. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “About Ranger Keller?”

  Taylor shrugged. “Yes, well, sort of.”

  Margaret’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you like him?”

  She shrugged. “That’s not exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took a long swallow of her own glass of wine for courage. “You know how you’re always talking about finding out more about your child?”

  Margaret’s smile faltered, and she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Yes.”

  “Please don’t be upset with me, Margaret, but as a wedding present, I thought I’d surprise you so I hired a private investigator to search for your baby.”

  Margaret’s eyes widened, although she hesitated a moment as if debating whether she wanted to know more. Finally a labored sigh escaped her. “Did you find out something?”

  Taylor nodded, rubbing at her temple. “Last night the P.I. called me and said he had information. But when I went to see him, someone shot him.”

  “Oh my Lord.” Margaret pressed her hand to her chest.

  “Whoever murdered him was still there and shot at me.” Taylor shuddered. “But Hayes rushed in and saved me.”

  Margaret glanced at Hayes again, relief softening the startled look in her eyes. “Well, I must thank him.”

  Taylor slid her hand over Margaret’s. “There’s more.”

  “The information?” Margaret asked. “You know where my child is, Taylor?”

  Emotions thickened Taylor’s throat as she nodded. Then she removed the envelope and pushed it in front of Margaret. “The information is in there, Margaret.”

  Margaret’s hand shook as she clutched the envelope, her chin quivering. “Oh my gosh, Tay. I’ve wondered about my baby, thought about finding him so much, but now I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Taylor gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand, Margaret. And I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped and done something to hurt you.”

  Margaret shook her head. “I could never be angry with you,” Margaret said. “You’re the one person in the world I trust.”

  Taylor couldn’t speak. She felt the same way and would never hurt her friend. But the truth might.

  Margaret inhaled deeply, closed her eyes as if in prayer for a moment, then opened them and unfastened the clasp of the envelope. Her chin quivered as she removed the documents and examined them.

  “Oh my goodness…” Tears blurred her eyes and she lifted her gaze to Taylor’s in question, then glanced at Hayes, shock straining her features.

  “I was stunned, too,” Taylor said.

  Margaret was so overcome with emotions that she leaned her head on her hands, trembling.

  “I’m sorry, Margaret,” Taylor whispered.

  Margaret jumped up and hurried toward the powder room. Taylor folded her napkin and followed, her heart in her throat.

  WHAT IN THE HELL WAS GOING ON?

  Hayes trailed the women to the ladies’ room in confusion. One minute Taylor and Margaret were modeling fancy dresses and drinking wine in celebration, the next Margaret had flown into tears and run to the powder room.

  Because of the contents of that envelope. The envelope the courier had delivered this morning.

  As he waited outside the door, standing guard, questions darted through his mind. What was in that envelope?

  In light of the night before, could it have had something to do with the private investigator’s death? Taylor claimed the information was personal. Did it pertain to Margaret instead of Taylor?

  Both women worked on several charities and hosted fund-raisers together. Perhaps they’d discovered financial discrepancies? Or something else?

  But what?

  Another thought struck him, stirring more worry. If the envelope had come from the P.I. and involved Margaret, could she be in danger, as well?

  He punched in Brody’s number, grateful when he answered on the second ring. “It’s Hayes.”

  “Yeah, what’s going on?”

  “Will you run a check on Margaret Hathaway, see what you can find out about her and her family?”

  “Why? You got a lead?”

  Hayes twisted his mouth in thought and explained about the envelope. “I’m not sure. But it might have something to do with that P.I.’s death. Maybe he had some dirt on Margaret and was going to blackmail her, or maybe someone else is.” He scratched his head. “Hell, I don’t know. It might be about the charity work she does or maybe about Goldenrod, the pretty boy she’s going to marry. I just know something’s wrong.”

  “All right. I’ll dig around.”

  Hayes considered mentioning the button he’d found at the crime scene. After all, Egan’s father, Walt, worked for Margaret’s father. Maybe Walt had something to do with the P.I.’s death. Either way, the rich people in Cantara Hills seemed to have secrets.

  Which one of those secrets was worth killing over?

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,” Margaret cried.

  Taylor pulled Margaret into her arms and hugged her, trying to soothe her tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Margaret gulped, pulled away and leaned against the vanity, struggling for a breath. Taylor reached for the box of tissues and shoved them into Margaret’s hand.

  “From the talk around the club, Hayes Keller grew up in a bad home,” Margaret sobbed. “If he learns I’m his mother, he’ll hate me even more than he seems to now.”

  Taylor didn’t know how to alleviate Margaret’s anxiety. Hayes had suffered and had a chip on his shoulder because of being abandoned. “I didn’t know whether to tell you or not, Margaret. But then that private investigator was killed last night, and Hayes was there, and he asked to have the man’s files sent to him.”

  Margaret swung her gaze up to Taylor’s, panic darkening her eyes. “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered. “Hayes wanted to know why I snuck out to meet a private investigator. He even suggested that the man I hired was killed because of the information he had to give me.”

  The color drained from Margaret’s face, her hand trembling as she reached for another tissue. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  Taylor bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. Maybe someone found out I was looking into your child’s whereabouts and didn’t want us to find that information.”

  “Good heavens,” Margaret said. “What am I going to do?” She leaned over and splashed cold water on her face, then patted it dry with a hand towel. “All this time I’ve wanted to see my son, wanted to know he was happy. And he’s been here in Cantara Hills and I didn’t even know him.” She turned to Taylor, pain slashing her features. “Maybe it woul
d be better if he never knew the truth….”

  Taylor gripped her friend by the arms. “Margaret, he’s going to find out. It’s only a matter of time before he sees Morris’s files. You have to tell him first, instead of letting him read it in a folder from a private investigator.”

  Another sob caught in Margaret’s throat, but she pushed her fist over her mouth to stifle it, a war of tumultuous emotions flickering in her eyes. “You’re right, Tay. But I need to talk to my father first and let him know that I intend to tell Hayes the truth.” Her voice cracked. “Will you go with me to talk to Father?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Margaret.”

  “Please,” Margaret begged. “I can use the moral support. My father will try to convince me not to tell Hayes.”

  “But he will find out,” Taylor said. “The police are sending Hayes those files.”

  Margaret’s labored breathing rattled in the air. “Right. But I have to tell my father first.” Her voice faded. “And then I have to figure out a way to tell Devon, too.”

  Taylor clenched her hands together. Link Hathaway would do anything to protect Margaret. And from what Margaret had confided over the years, he’d been adamant that she not search for her child.

  Her heart pounded as questions pummeled her. Had Link known all along that Hayes was suffering and left him there anyway? How far would he go to make sure that Margaret didn’t reconcile with her child?

  Chapter Eleven

  Hayes paced outside the ladies’ room, feeling conspicuous in his jeans and Stetson amongst the rich and snotty. A birdlike woman with platinum-blond hair narrowed her eyes. “Can I help you, sir?”

  He tipped his Stetson. He hated this bodyguard job. “No, ma’am, I’m waiting for Miss Landis and Miss Hathaway.”

  She shrugged, then strolled across the plush rug at the threshold of the doorway.

  Others stared, as well, but his dark glare kept them from approaching. Finally Taylor and Margaret emerged. Margaret’s eyes were slightly red although the women must have done a repair job with makeup. Margaret Hathaway had a timeless beauty and sophistication yet something about her also seemed soft and…kind.