Rumors: The McCaffertys: The McCaffertys: ThorneThe McCaffertys: Matt

  “I know. I was hoping you could tell me a little about Randi. Who she hung out with, who she was dating, who were her friends and enemies.”

  “And who the father of her baby is,” Sara said. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? And I don’t know.” She seemed earnest, her eyebrows knitting, her lips pursing as she thought. “You know, I don’t know who would want to hurt Randi and I would hope it wouldn’t be the father of her kid, but the world is made up of all kinds....”

  For the next two hours Kelly talked to Sara and others in the office and left without much more information than she came in with. No one had any idea who would want to hurt her, who the father of her baby was, who she’d inadvertently ticked off. She had girlfriends from college, one in particular, Sharon Okano, whom she was close to, an aunt and female cousin on her mother’s side who weren’t related to any of Randi’s brothers, and it was generally thought that she was writing a novel, a fictional story against a backdrop of the rodeo circuit. Aside from her regular column, she occasionally wrote a freelance piece.

  It was dark by the time Kelly checked into a hotel overlooking Elliott Bay, where she made her way to her room and tossed her purse onto the table.

  She stood at the window, stared at the gray water for a few seconds, then placed a call to Randi’s friend, Sharon, who, according the recorded message, would call her back “as soon as possible.” Kelly left her name and the number of her hotel along with the telephone number of the sheriff’s department in Grand Hope, then called the department and left a voice-mail message for Espinoza. Those tasks completed, she decided to explore the city. Windows ablaze, skyscrapers knifed upward from the steep hills, traffic whizzed past, and pedestrians huddled in raincoats and, carrying umbrellas, hurried along the wet pavement.

  Kelly made her way to the waterfront, where a stiff breeze blew across the white-capped sound and ferries chugged through the dark water. Though it wasn’t quite Thanksgiving, there were already hints of Christmas in the store windows, and there was a buzz in the air, an electricity that seemed to charge the night.

  She bought a cup of chowder from a small restaurant located on Pier 56 and hiked back to her hotel, feeling wound tight and wondering what Matt McCafferty was doing. She thought about the fact that she’d nearly made love to him and knew in her heart that given a second chance, she’d do it again. Jamming her fists into her pockets, she considered the consequences of that one fateful act.

  What would be the harm?

  She was an adult.

  He was an adult.

  But you’re a cop and he’s the brother of a victim, perhaps even a suspect. Not that she believed the local gossip. Her hair was wet by the time she reached the hotel, her cheeks chapped and her fingers icy. She walked through the rotating door and started for the elevator when she sensed, rather than saw, someone fall into step with her. A hint of musky aftershave, and just the wisp of the scent of leather and horses. “How did you find me?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat as she caught his reflection in the elevator doors.

  “A little detective work.”

  She nearly laughed. “Oh, yeah, right.”

  The doors parted and she stepped into the waiting car. Matt was beside her and she looked up into his dark eyes. They sparked with humor and something decidedly more dangerous.

  “You think you’ve got the market cornered on snooping?”

  “I don’t think of it as snooping.”

  He pressed a button for the top floor of the hotel and she reached forward to poke a different one, but he grabbed her hand. “I thought you might want to come up to my room for a while. Have a drink.”

  Her throat tightened. “Did you?” She shook her head. “I know that we got a little carried away the other night, but it’s really not a good idea for us to…” She lifted her shoulders and one hand as the elevator rumbled ever upward. “Well, considering the circumstances, it just wouldn’t be smart for us to get involved.”

  “We already are.” He was standing next to her, not touching her, just seeming to fill the whole damned car. Kelly felt claustrophobic, as if she couldn’t breathe.

  “Okay, then, maybe not any more involved. Until this case is solved, I don’t have any business losing my objectivity.”

  “Too late.” He grabbed her then, and though she knew she should tell him to go jump in the proverbial lake, she didn’t. Instead she tilted her chin upward and met his warm mouth with her chilled lips. His arms wrapped around her, and as the elevator car landed on the uppermost floor, he kissed her. Hard. Long. With enough passion to send tingles to the deepest part of her.

  The battle was over and she knew it, didn’t bother to protest or resist as he lifted her from her feet and, like a groom carrying a bride on his wedding night, carried her over the threshold of the penthouse suite.

  She closed her eyes and lost herself in him. They were alone, and what would one little night together harm? Groaning, he worked at the zipper of her jacket, peeling the unwanted garment from her easily as he kissed her. First the jacket, then her sweater, her boots and jeans, all piled onto the plush carpet, and she didn’t stop him, just kissed him as fervently as he kissed her.

  She was vaguely aware of the dimmed lights, hissing fire and flowers scenting the room as she stripped him of his clothes, but those images were lost in the touch and feel of his work-roughened hands caressing her body, his lips and tongue touching and tasting her, the length of him pressed hard against her. Slowly he pressed her backward onto the satin comforter stretched across a king-size bed.

  “How…how did you find me?” she asked again as they tumbled together.

  “When I want something, I go after it.” He caressed her chin with one long finger. “You told me you were leaving, I decided to follow.”

  “Seattle’s a pretty big city.”

  His smile was wickedly delicious. “I’m a pretty determined guy.”

  “With connections.”

  “Lots of ’em.” He kissed her shoulder and she shivered with want.

  “And you use them.”

  “When I have to.” He leaned toward her, kissing the top of her breast and lowering her bra strap, exposing more of her. Kelly swallowed hard as his hands sculpted her ribs, sliding behind her back, drawing her closer, and he finally took her nipple into his mouth.

  She thought she would die.

  He suckled and she arched her back.

  “Kelly,” he whispered across her abdomen, and lowered himself, brushing his mouth across her skin, touching her, tasting her, teasing her, dragging her panties down her legs and tossing them onto the floor. She writhed at his ministrations and she felt herself melting, wanting, aching for more of him. The corners of the room began to fog and she knew only the sensations he evoked from her.

  Sweat dotted her body and her blood pounded through her veins, pulsing in her eardrums, thundering through her brain. She heard a moan before she recognized her own voice. Heat spread from the back of her neck through her extremities and she moved against him, wanting so much more.

  “Matt, please…” she whispered throatily, and he came to her, slid up against her and somehow kicked off his jeans. His lips found hers, muscular arms circled her body as he poised above her for a heart-stopping moment. In one thrust, he entered her and she gasped against his skin. He began to move and she caught his tempo, her blood on fire, her heart thudding. Her fingers scraped his back and he held her tight, breathing in counterpoint to her own ragged gasps, his rhythm increasing, his sinewy body straining with each rapid thrust.

  She stared into eyes that looked down at her, deep brown, intense, searching her soul. Deep inside she convulsed, and behind her eyes a thousand colors splintered, a million lights danced, and she was certain the universe collided. He let go and with a roar as untamed as the wild Montana wind, he fell against her, wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. “Kelly,” he whispered. “Oh…Kelly.”

  They lay spent, entwined
until at last their breathing had calmed. She nestled against him, resting her cheek on his bare shoulder as he caressed her face and brushed the hair off her cheek.

  A dozen recriminations assailed her, but she ignored them. Instead, she slid him a mischievous glance. “So…tell me, cowboy,” she teased. “What do you do for an encore?”

  He barked out a laugh. “You want to see?”

  “Mmm.” She ran fingers through the curling hairs of his chest. “If you’ve got it in you?”

  “You’re asking for it, lady.”

  “Again. I’m asking for it again,” she clarified with a giggle.

  Quick as a rattler striking, he surrounded her, pressed his mouth against hers, and as she gasped, said, “Then you’re gonna get it.”

  “Wait a second—” But her protest was cut off by his kiss, and within a heartbeat her blood had heated again, her heart was pounding and she lost herself all over again, realizing as she did so that there was no doubt about it, she was hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.

  Chapter 10

  “Randi’s awake.” Slade’s voice echoed through the telephone wires and pounded through Matt’s brain the next morning. Matt glanced to the side of the mussed bed where Kelly, her red hair splayed around her face, was stretching, yawning, those beautiful brown eyes blinking out of a deep sleep.

  “When?”

  “Just a little while ago.”

  “Has she said anything?” he asked, and Kelly was instantly alert, all traces of slumber disappearing. She’d reached over the side of the bed for her clothes.

  “Not yet. I’m on my way to the hospital now.”

  “We’ll catch the next flight out.”

  “We?” Slade repeated, and Matt winced.

  His brother chuckled and the sound grated on Matt’s nerves. “You can tell me all about it when you get back to Grand Hope, brother.” Slade hung up and Matt reached for his clothes.

  “Randi?” Kelly asked.

  “She’s awake.”

  She was suddenly all business. “What are we waiting for?”

  * * *

  “Maybe you’ll tell me what’s going on,” Randi said as Matt and Kelly walked into her already-crowded hospital room. Slade, Thorne and Nicole surrounded the bed where Randi was ready to spit nails. “I want to see my baby.”

  Not only awake, Randi was ready to tear into any doctor or brother who made the mistake of keeping her from her child from limb to proverbial limb. In a private room, the top half of her bed elevated, she was glaring at the small gathering of people around her bed, and Matt felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders.

  Randi’s brown eyes were clear, her face only slightly swollen, her short mahogany-colored hair sticking up at odd angles. Her jaw, which had previously been wired, was now working with some difficulty as the wires had been removed, and she winced as she lifted her right arm as if her broken ribs still bothered her. However, it was easy to read her expression: she was ticked. Big-time.

  “Is there any reason she can’t see J.R.?” Matt asked, his gaze landing on Nicole.

  “We’re arranging it.”

  “Well, arrange it faster,” Randi insisted as she read the name tag pinned to her lab coat. “Who are you?”

  “Dr. Stevenson,” Nicole answered as Randi’s eyes narrowed on her.

  “I can see that, but I already met two other doctors who claim to be taking care of me.” She was speaking with some difficulty, only forcing out the words by sheer will. They sounded a little muffled, but the message was clear: Randi McCafferty was awake, angry and not about to be bullied. Good. That meant she was definitely getting better.

  “I was the admitting doctor when you were brought in,” Nicole explained, “and you were in pretty bad shape. Aside from being comatose, you had a concussion, punctured lung, broken ribs, a fractured jaw and a nearly shattered femur. Some of your bones have knit, you can talk, but it’ll be a while before you can walk, I’m afraid, and then there was the complication that you’ve just had a C-section. And don’t forget to factor in that someone slipped some insulin into your IV and you nearly died, so I think it would be best if you just took your time, listened to the doctors’ orders and tried to get well before you start making too many demands.”

  “So are you the one in charge? My physician of record?”

  “You have several. In fact, an entire team. I’m just interested because you were my patient and…and I’m involved with your family.”

  “Involved?” Randi repeated, her eyes narrowing. “What does that mean—‘involved’?”

  “Nicole’s my fiancée,” Thorne explained, stepping closer to the bed rails and linking his fingers through Nicole’s. “And believe me, we’ll bring the baby in as soon as the pediatrician and your doctors agree.”

  “Fiancée?” Randi whispered, then winced as if a sudden pain had slammed through her brain. “Wait a minute, Thorne. You? You’re going to get married?”

  “That’s right. We’ve only been waiting for you to recover so that you could attend the wedding.”

  “Hold on a sec. This is a little too much for me to process. Just how long have I been out of it?”

  “Over a month,” Slade said.

  “Holy Toledo!” She lifted her hand palm outward to stop the flow of conversation. “Now, wait a minute,” she said, finally zeroing in on Thorne’s cane and cast. “What happened to you?”

  “An accident. I was lucky. My plane went down.”

  “What?”

  “And you…” She turned her eyes in Slade’s direction. “Were you hurt, too?”

  Slade touched the fine line that ran from his eyebrow to chin. “Nope. Skiing accident. Don’t you remember?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  “It happened last winter, not quite a year ago. You saw the scar at Dad’s funeral.”

  Her eyes clouded. “There’s a lot I don’t remember,” she admitted, then turned her attention to Matt. “Is the whole family falling apart? What about you? Seems like everyone named McCafferty is cursed, so what’s happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “No near-death experiences, no injuries, no engagement?”

  “Not so far,” he drawled, and saw Kelly’s shoulders stiffen slightly.

  “Good. As for you,” Randi said to Thorne, “I’ll catch up on your love life later. For now, what I want is to see my son, so you can either bring him to visit me, or I’m walking out of here.”

  “Hang in for a while, okay?” Slade requested, his voice surprisingly tender. “We named him, J.R., like junior or after Dad. He’s with Juanita at the ranch, and as soon as we can we’ll get you two together.”

  “Just don’t waste any time, okay?” Randi was adamant, but obviously starting to tire. “And we’ll discuss the name thing. I don’t think I want to stick with J.R. I mean, come on. After Dad?” She swept a skeptical gaze over her brothers. “Whose brilliant idea was that?”

  “Mine,” Thorne said.

  “Figures. You always were a Dudley Do Right. Even though you couldn’t stand the guy.”

  Thorne started to argue but held his tongue, and Kelly stepped forward, closer to Randi’s bed. “I’m Kelly Dillinger, with the sheriff’s department,” she said clearly as she offered an encouraging smile. Matt had a quick mental flash of another grin, one much more naughty, that she’d rained on him last night. His thoughts strayed for a second to their passionate night in Seattle, but he forced himself into the here and now. With Randi. “When the doctors agree,” Kelly was saying, “I’d like to speak to you about the accident.”

  Randi’s eyes clouded. “The accident…” she said, and shook her head.

  “Up near Glacier Park. You were forced off the road, we think,” Thorne added.

  “You mean you think that someone purposely tried to kill me?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Kelly said. “Or possibly it was a hit-and-run accident and the guilty party took off. But that seems
unlikely, since someone walked into your hospital room and injected you with insulin. We’re approaching this as an attempted homicide.”

  Randi’s gaze traveled from one somber-faced half brother to the next. “Tell me she’s exaggerating.”

  “’Fraid not,” Matt replied, his blood cold at the thought of how close the would-be murderer had come to snuffing out Randi’s life.

  “Oh, God.” The starch seeped from Randi’s body and she leaned back on her pillow. “I…I can’t remember....” Her eyebrows slammed together in concentration. “In fact…I don’t remember much,” she admitted. “I mean, I know all of you and realize I’m in a hospital and I know that I’m a writer, that I usually live in Seattle, but…so much else is blurry.”

  Thorne’s shoulders stiffened. “How about the father of your child?” he asked, and the room was instantly so quiet that the noise from the hallway—the rattling gurneys, carts and the hum of conversation—seemed suddenly loud and intrusive. “Who’s J.R.’s dad?”

  Randi swallowed and turned suddenly pale. She glanced down at her hands, one strapped to an IV, the other bound by plaster and tape, her left hand bare, no wedding band surrounding her third finger. “The baby’s father,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I…I can’t remember…I mean…oh, damn.” She blinked rapidly, as if fighting a sudden wash of tears.

  “That’s enough,” Nicole interjected. “She needs to rest.”

  “No!” Randi was adamant. “Are you a mother?” she asked her soon-to-be sister-in-law.

  “Yes. I have twin girls.”

  “Then you understand. I want to see my baby. And as for you—” she swung her gaze to Kelly “—I’ll answer anything I can, but right now I can’t remember a thing. Maybe seeing my baby will jog my memory.”

  Matt knew a con when he saw one, and unless he missed his guess, his half sister was conning all of them, bargaining by trading on their emotions. Randi wanted to be reunited with her child, and she’d pull out all the stops, including lying about what she remembered, to attain her goal. Matt didn’t blame her. The best medicine in the world for baby and mother was to get them together. “I’ll take care of it,” he said.