Chapter 26

26

Daniel disconnected the call, and waited. He bit back every curse he could think of. This—how in the hell had this happened?

He had ordered that evidence guarded.

And he knew Madison, the woman running the lab right now with Haldyn out, never would have made that kind of a mistake. Not Madison.

But Stillman and his goons were pointing the finger at the Finley Creek lab. Putting Madison right in the crossfire. In the middle of it all. Purposefully.

Of course, they were. Madison had been out there that night with Haldyn and Hope. She was a threat. Just like Haldyn, Hope, and Heather.

Something else was going on. And that scared him. With Jarrod off, and him and Gunnar and Heather in Wyoming, that left Madison far too vulnerable right now. And Daniel didn't trust that the rank and file of the TSP weren't dirty up to their eyeballs.

He texted Dom. Ordered him to check in on Madison when he had a chance. And then Daniel waited.

For the woman he wanted.

He had to tell her. To prepare her.

Heather deserved to know. But she didn't deserve this. She just didn't.

He heard a sound on the stairs. He tensed. Heather had been in the hall when he had stopped to take the call. He had texted her to meet him now. But it was another guest of the inn who passed him.

Daniel instinctively studied the man around his age and build as the guy hurried down the hall toward the stairs. It was late. But there were vending machines in the basement of the inn. The guy nodded at Daniel, then turned away.

Daniel was almost certain he had seen the man somewhere before. But the guy was wearing a hat, and the light in the hall wasn't the brightest.

Daniel had been to Masterson once. Maybe they had crossed paths then. He just wasn't certain. He didn't like the idea of the man being in the basement right now. Not this late.

Not with Heather in the hotel.

Then again, maybe he was being an idiot. No one had even known Heather was coming to Wyoming. He had wanted it that way. Kept it that way.

Hell, he had sent her to Wyoming on an excuse. The entire trip was something he and Elliot had cooked up to get her out of Finley Creek. Fast.

For this very reason. Spread out the possible targets. They'd sent Heather to Wyoming so Gunnar could keep her safe, damn it. And still, those bastards had found a way to get to the very thing Daniel hadn't wanted them to get to.

"All right, McKellen, Cara is giving my daughter her bath. You have five minutes before I need to get back up there," a voice said behind him. Daniel turned. Heather was there, in a bright pink softball T-shirt with Coleson Chaos and a cartoon duck with an eye patch on it, and soft pale blue sweatpants. The dark hair was loose and waved around her shoulders to end an inch above her waist.

Heather looked perfect. Hot. Sexy as hell.

She looked like she was ready to be carried off to some lucky bastard's bed and tucked in really close for the night. Daniel fought his body's instinctive reaction.

This was a very beautiful woman.

He saw her, and he wanted her. Just like that.

Hell, he was no better than his father.

She was the kind of woman men fought wars over.

Daniel was almost convinced that was exactly what the TSP was doing right now. Whatever was going on in the TSP, this woman in front of him might just hold the secrets to it all. But how to get to the secrets she kept—he didn't have a damned clue.

"We have a problem." Hell, how was he going to tell her?

"No. I never would have guessed."

The sarcasm got under his skin fast. He suspected she knew it too. She hadn't been like this in the six weeks they'd worked together before. But it was like once the walls came down, thanks to Kimball, Heather's filters were gone too.

She said what she wanted to say and damn the consequences. Almost like she was taunting the TSP to come after her.

Maybe she was.

Heather was beyond angry right now. She was pushing just to see how far she could. Before the TSP would react.

He could understand that. The TSP had almost gotten her baby sister killed, after all. Well, they had that in common. Even if he would never mention his sister again. Not to anyone from the TSP. Not until he knew it was safe.

Whenever that would be. If ever.

"Can the bullshit, Coleson," Daniel told her. But hell, he almost liked this side of her. He suspected the snark and fire were closer to the real Heather Coleson than the consummate professional she had been before.

Before, she had reminded him a great deal of Zoey Lake in attitude and behavior. But now? She was definitely different from the niece who looked the most like her.

He found her fascinating. No denying that.

Fascinating—but maddening. How many other men had thought that same thing where she was concerned?

"What's going on that you had to call me down here? I am exhausted. I want to actually try to get to sleep after I call Mig and check in. Grab a few hours between now and the midnight wake-up-mommy call that is inevitable."

Miguel. Daniel didn't know what to think about the relationship between Heather and their head of Homicide. He hadn't figured the two of them out yet. "Why are you checking in with him ?"

"Um, because he's currently sleeping in my guest room. He's guarding Hope now."

"I see." They had bigger problems. "Murdoch called."

"What did my favorite nephew-by-marriage have to say? I like him better than Markie, you know."

Did the woman have snark for everything she said?

Daniel pulled in a breath. And just told her. "Someone stole the evidence we collected from Sol Kimball's records. And the reports we have about what Wilson did to you."

"Okay. Well, I am sure there are other copies out there. I have copies of all twelve reports I filed, McKellen. I am not stupid. I figured something would so-conveniently happen to the evidence. It has happened before. Quite a few times, actually."

"I need copies of it."

"I'll have copies of it for you—when I am back in Finley Creek. What else? You are hiding something from me." She moved to block him. Daniel froze. He could smell the shampoo the woman used.

Hell, she did something to a man. Effortlessly.

"Word has gotten out. About what Wilson did to you, specifically. I tried to stop it, to keep it quiet."

He would never forget how she paled right in front of him.

"No surprise, really. It was just a matter of time. It wouldn't surprise me if Stillman and his goons aren't behind leaking it themselves. It is something they'd get off on. Having that control, that power. Knowing I can't control it."

But Daniel saw the pain on her face. "I'm sorry."

"The whole world knowing that Steve Wilson stalked me, beat me, and raped me—well, I can deal with that. Those were the results of his choices, not mine. But someday, my little girls are going to ask about their father, McKellen. And that truth will hurt them. That's what matters the most. What breaks me every time I remember. That, and the look on my baby sister's face that night when he had her trapped beneath him, hurting her because of my bad decision. And we both know he hurt her again out there on Reservoir Road because of me. I will never forget that."

Another I'm sorry just didn't seem like it would ever be enough. "So, tell me: What do you want to do about it now?"