Beautiful Lawman
“No one would believe a couple of Walshes.” She shook her head. “Especially back then. It was just a couple years after my mother’s accident. But you’re right.” She nodded resolutely. “I did a terrible thing. I killed a girl and let my brother take the rap. He’s been in jail seven years because of me, but I can’t live with this anymore. Malia is fifteen now. Maybe Claire’s family could take her in for the next three years. You’re a sheriff. You have influence. You could help make that happen. Please, will you do it for Malia?”
He lifted his head and leveled a suddenly alert stare on her; his lips worked as though searching for the right words. “What are you saying, Piper?”
“I’m going to confess. I—I’m going to the police tomorrow.” Even though her voice trembled, she had never felt so certain of anything in her life. Just stating her intention lifted a weight off her chest. “I’m going to tell them everything—”
“Like hell you are,” he growled. And suddenly he was over her, pinning her down on the bed, his expression fierce. “I’m not losing you because you defended yourself against some psychotic girl. It was self-defense,” he said, his voice still hard, vibrating with fury. “What she did to you was fucked up. Any jury—”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember any of it. And any jury in this town will look at me now like they would have looked at me seven years ago. A no-good Walsh, jealous of the perfect rich girl. And what are they going to think of me for letting my brother rot in prison all these years?”
“He doesn’t have that much time left on his sentence—”
“One more day in there is too much.” Her tears fell harder. “How do you think I feel? How can I live with myself out here . . . loving you while he’s stuck in there? It was one thing when I was miserable, living my own hell and working at Joe’s, but you make me happy and I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be free. I don’t deserve you—”
His mouth crushed into hers, silencing her. She melted against him, her mouth wet from the fall of her tears. Their teeth and tongues collided.
His hand skimmed down her naked form, grabbing hold of her backside as he devoured her. His cock swelled between them as he growled against her lips, “You’re not telling anyone.”
“I have to.” She gasped as he widened her thighs apart with his hips. “I can’t ever be happy . . . we can’t be happy . . . with this hanging over us.”
“No.” He ground his cock into her, tormenting her and making her writhe beneath him.
“I’m confessing.”
“You can’t.” He kissed her deeper, both hands under her now, his hands massaging her ass as he rocked his erection against her sex, sliding against the slippery folds.
“Hale,” she moaned. “Please . . .”
He pushed inside her, but then stopped, holding just the crown of himself at her entrance.
She arched, pushing and pulling at his shoulders. “Please, give it to me. I need you.” It might be the last time and she was desperate to claim it for herself. It would be something to take with her, to cherish and keep close when she was alone in a cell.
He inched in, just an incremental amount, and then pulled back out. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. You won’t go to the police.”
She writhed under him. “This isn’t fair.”
“Promise me, Piper,” he commanded, his voice hard and eyes glittering.
She bit her lip, rolling her hips, trying to bring him inside her body.
He eased his hand between them and gently, delicately, teasingly, stroked her clit.
“Hale,” she wept.
“Say. It.”
“Yes, I promise.”
He plunged inside her, thrusting without relief. He pounded into her as if he could exorcise the demons from her past.
“Mine,” he panted. She had a sense he was punishing her for keeping her secrets, for thinking that she could ruin this thing between them.
She reveled in his body movements, in his pulsing shaft gliding in and out of her throbbing sex. She lifted her hips for him, sealing this in her memory.
She gripped the slick skin of his massive shoulders and clung to him. Animallike sounds tore from his lips. Her orgasm hit her in a blinding flash. She lowered her hands and scored her nails over his taut backside, breaking his rhythm and forcing him deeper.
He groaned and jerked out of her, spilling his seed over her belly.
He fell beside her, breathing harshly. They both gazed at the ceiling. His voice rumbled over the air. “You’re not leaving me, Piper Walsh. You can get that thought right out of your head.”
Gradually his breathing evened and she realized he had fallen asleep.
She rose from the bed and slipped into the bathroom to clean herself up. She paused when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were huge and luminous. The weight was still there. The burden.
Tomorrow she would lift that burden and hope that he didn’t hate her for breaking her promise to him. She was going to have to add lying to the man she loved to her many sins.
Twenty-Three
It wasn’t the first time Hale visited Devil’s Rock Penitentiary. Work had brought him here plenty of times, but this was the first visit of a personal nature.
Cruz Walsh lowered himself in the chair across from him. There was no hiding the wariness in his expression. “Last time I checked, I never committed a crime in the County of Sweet Hill.”
“I’m not here on county business.”
He lifted a dark brow that was bisected with a scar. A scar that hadn’t been present in his mug shot so he could only guess this was courtesy of his time in prison. “Why are you here, then?”
“I’m in love with your sister.”
A tic went wild in his cheek but otherwise he didn’t react. Several moments passed before he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. His hands curled into white-knuckled fists. “You leave her the fuck alone.”
“I’m going to marry her.”
Cruz’s dark eyes roamed his face, assessing, probing. Bewilderment gleamed in there, but also fear. Hale knew precisely why he was scared.
“I’m here for your blessing.” He paused at Cruz’s snort. “You have my promise that no harm will ever come to her. I don’t care about what happened in the past . . .” He let his words hang meaningfully. “I will always protect her. Always.”
Cruz leaned back in his chair, letting his arms drop in his lap again. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A long silence ensued as the two stared at each other. Finally Cruz leaned forward again, bringing his face close to the glass. “You hurt her and I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way out of this cage and I’ll come for you.”
Hale smiled. “Fair enough.”
After she dropped Malia off at school, hugging her extralong and telling her how much she loved her, she drove straight to the Sweet Hill Police Department. She knew the building well. She’d been there several times with her mother, and of course the night Shelley Rae died and Cruz was arrested.
The lead detective still worked there. She asked for Detective Sorenson and he came out right away to greet her. He’d always been decent to her. She was glad he hadn’t retired yet and he would be the one to take her confession.
He led her to a conference room. Another detective joined them. A camera sat in the corner. It wasn’t in operation, but she nodded at it. “You might want to record this.”
The two men exchanged looks and the younger man moved to the camera.
“Piper, what brings you here?” Sorenson asked in a mild voice.
She rubbed her sweaty palms over her thighs. She couldn’t help it, but she thought of Hale. She hoped he could forgive her for this, but it didn’t matter. It had to be done.
“I’m here to confess to a crime.” Deep breath. “Seven years ago, I killed Shelley Rae Kramer.”
Sorenson’s eyes widened. She rushed into the details of that night. Sorenson foll
owed along, occasionally jotting down notes. When she was done, the detective released a breath and looked at his colleague again.
She glanced at the young man and did a double take. He wore the most curious expression. His forehead knitted together in wonder. He didn’t look at her like she was a horrible person. No, he looked at her like she was crazy.
“Ms. Walsh,” he said. “All these years . . . you thought you had killed Shelley Rae Kramer?”
She nodded. “I did. It wasn’t my brother. I swear it. I’ll take a lie detector.”
Sorenson uncrossed his legs and scooted his chair around to face her. “Listen carefully. You didn’t kill Shelley Rae.”
Fear bloomed in her chest. It had never occurred to her they might not believe her. “I’m telling the truth.”
“I believe that’s what you think, but you’re innocent of this crime.”
“My brother didn’t do this!”
“Yes, I know that. Colby Mathers came in late last night and confessed to killing Shelley Rae. We were about to leave this morning to bring you in to corroborate his story, although that was really only a formality. He gave us the shirt he was wearing that night. He’s kept it all these years. It’s covered in blood. We’ve sent it to the lab, but we’re pretty convinced that it will return positive for Shelley Rae’s blood.”
“Colby? Why?” She shook her head. They were friends. Shelley Rae was giving Piper to him that night as some sort of warped present. Why would he kill her?
“Apparently when he showed up she was attacking you.”
He studied her closely. “Do you remember anything about that night?”
She shook her head. “I remember we were struggling. She drugged me . . . I was so weak. And then nothing. I passed out.”
He nodded. “Colby said she drugged you. He shoved her off you and she fell into a broken portion of the lamp. A shard went straight through her jugular. He claims it was an accident. He ran though. He didn’t call an ambulance. He didn’t call the police.”
“Felony manslaughter at the minimum,” the other detective surmised.
“I didn’t do it,” she said, more to herself than them, staring blindly ahead. All these years she thought she’d killed Shelley Rae.
Her soul had suffered the weight of that sin. She thought every awful thing to befall her deserving . . . God or karma seeing to her penance. Her brother went to jail for her murder.
Her gaze snapped to Sorenson. “My brother!”
He nodded. “I already have an appointment set up with the DA.”
Tears choked her. “He’s gonna get out?”
“I can’t imagine he’ll have to be in there much longer. Now there are formalities to . . .”
She dropped her face into her hands and broke into sobs, not hearing another word he said, too overcome. She was innocent. And Cruz would be coming home.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside the room and the door burst open. Hale stepped into the room. Sorenson stood. “Sheriff Walters—”
“Piper.” Hale’s gaze fell on her and the agonized look on his face made her heart seize in her too-tight chest.
“Hale, what are you doing here?”
His gaze skipped to the two bewildered detectives, then darted to the rolling camera in the corner. “This interview is over,” he said in a steel voice. “You’re not arresting her. She’s going home—”
“Of course we’re not arresting her.” Sorenson looked affronted.
Hale paused.
“Hale, it wasn’t me. Someone else did it. Someone else killed Shelley Rae. I didn’t do it and my brother is going to get to come home.”
Instead of looking relieved he looked furious. “But you came here and confessed?”
“Um . . .”
He looked at both detectives. “I’m taking her home now.”
Sorenson held up both hands as if illustrating that they had no intention of detaining her.
With a stiff nod, Hale grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the police department. “My car is over—”
“We’ll get it later,” he growled, depositing her in the passenger seat. For a moment, she had a flash of déjà vu to the time he hauled her out of the club.
He drove them home—much too fast, she couldn’t help noting. “How did you know where I was?”
“You didn’t go to work this morning. Didn’t take much to figure where you went.” He slid her a resentful look. “You promised me.”
“Under duress,” she shot back.
“I didn’t have a gun to your head.”
“You seduced me with sex. Baiting me with the promise of my orgasm wasn’t exactly fair. I would have said anything. You knew what you were doing.”
She crossed her arms and stared out the window, angry with him. This was a dream come true. She’d never imagined this turn of events . . . and he was ruining it. She was free. Soon Cruz would be free.
They pulled in the driveway and she was out before he could come around to her door. In fact, she had her keys out and the front door unlocked ahead of him. She stalked back to her bedroom, but he followed like a tenacious bulldog, looking big and intimidating and sexy as hell in his uniform. It was distracting. But at least he was dressed. Naked was worse. Better but worse.
“You walked in there and confessed. You gave up on me.”
She whirled around. “Is that what this is? You didn’t get to save me? I wounded your ego.”
“No!” he exploded. “I fucking love you and you tried to take yourself away from me. How could you have done that? You were willing to give up on us. It would have broken me, Piper.”
She stared at him in shock. “But . . . you don’t do relationships . . .”
He laughed humorlessly, holding his arms wide. “What do you think this is? Casual?”
“Well . . . no.”
“We’ve been in a relationship for some time now whether either one of us put a name on it.” His chest lifted on a ragged breath. “I’m in love with you, Piper Walsh. And I don’t want you to move out. I don’t want you in this bedroom down the hall from me either.”
“Hale—”
“I want you in my bed. Every night.” He stopped and their gazes held. “You said you loved me last night.”
“You heard that?” she whispered.
His response was succinct. “Yes, I heard. And I love you. I need you, Piper.”
She gasped.
In two strides he lifted her against him. “Are you really so surprised? You confessed to murder last night and I didn’t give a shit. I’m a lawman and I would have done everything to protect you and cover it up.”
She cupped his face. “I know. I just thought you were being heroic. I didn’t think you could really love—”
He kissed her. Inhaled her. Devoured her until her head spun. She clung to his shoulders and wrapped her dangling legs around his waist.
He broke away to mutter against her mouth, “For years you’ve been beating yourself up and blaming yourself for a crime you didn’t commit. For blaming yourself for your brother’s imprisonment when you did the only thing you could do at the time to protect Malia. I get it. I doubt I could have been as strong. You haven’t been dealt the best hand in this life, Piper, but I want you to live the rest of your life with me and we’ll make it amazing. Together.”
She was crying then and kissing him, raining feverish kisses all over his face. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He dropped her on the bed and stood back, wrangling free of his clothes. She watched him, grinning so widely her cheeks ached.
Suddenly she saw everything ahead of her. This beautiful man and their love, their future full of all the things she only dreamed about. Things other people had. Not Piper Walsh.
This was better than that because she wasn’t dreaming it up at all. It was real and it was hers.
Epilogue
Five weeks later . . .
Hale watched as Piper flitted around the house, moving picture frames and then movi
ng them back, adjusting a vase of flowers, critically eyeing the appetizers on the counter, sticking her head in the oven to poke at the brisket that he’d smoked earlier and wrapped in foil to keep warm.
She glanced back at him, worry heavy in her dark eyes. “You don’t think it’s drying out in there?”
“The oven is off. It’s just keeping it warm. And I’ve never dried out a brisket in my life.”
She nodded but didn’t look reassured as she closed the door shut again.
She’d been like this all day. Running to the store multiple times, cooking, cleaning, calling Faith for advice about this or that. She’d changed her dress two times already.
She blew by him again, the loose braid she wore bouncing over her shoulder. She muttered something under her breath and glared down at her second dress of the day. He knew what that meant.
He reached out an arm and caught her by the waist, pulling her back against him.
“Hale!” She pushed halfheartedly at his chest. “Everyone is going to be here any moment.”
By them she meant their guests: roughly a dozen plus people, close family and friends all assembling to celebrate the release of Cruz, exonerated from the crime he was convicted of seven years ago.
If ever there was time for a celebration this was it. Cruz Walsh was a free man. Even if he didn’t act like it.
When he was finally released three weeks ago he wore an expression more fitting for a funeral than a man who had just gained his freedom. Hale knew it disappointed Piper. She wanted her brother to be happy.
“And this place looks perfect,” Hale assured her. “Cleaner than it’s ever been. The pillows you got for the couch are a nice touch, too.” He couldn’t care less about pillows but he knew she cared. That’s how his life was now. He cared about the things she cared about.
She nodded distractedly and looked down at her body again. “I just want to change my clothes—”
“You look perfect.”
She went limp, allowing him to fold her in his arms and pull her close. “I feel like a hot mess.”
“You’re my beautiful hot mess though.” He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her throat and nuzzled the sensitive skin there.