is a warning and your number supposed to protect her from this psychopath?”
Frustration lit Detective Valdez’s eyes, though he took Tate’s anger in stride. “My hands are tied. I need more than accusations and assumptions. Without evidence, I can’t arrest him.”
“And he gets away with killing someone.” The contempt and disgust in Tate’s voice matched exactly how Liz felt. Tate was scared for her.
But he didn’t want anything to do with her, so . . . “Tate, thanks for your concern, but I’ll handle this. Just go.”
“That’s the second time you’ve tried to kick me out for no reason. What is wrong with you?”
She turned her pointed finger into her chest. “Me?” She let her collective emotions fly. “After what you did, you want to know what’s wrong with me.”
Tate’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. What did I do?”
“After all these years, everything we’ve shared, you don’t have the decency to say it to my face. You send me a text!”
He held his hands out wide. “Say what?”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing this with you again. You can’t say what you said and expect that we’ll still be friends.”
His hands dropped and his eyes went soft. “We are more than friends. I don’t know what happened between last night and you not picking up when I called you twice today, but whatever it is, just tell me. If I upset you, I’m sorry.”
She stood to face off with him because she couldn’t take this sitting down. “Upset me! You send me those texts, then you show up here like nothing happened!” Tears threatened and roughened her voice.
“Hey now, hold up. I lost my phone this morning. I tried to call you from Declan’s phone to let you know.”
Rational thoughts broke through the hurt and anger. “You lost your phone?”
“Yeah. I had it this morning when I drove into town to pick up an order, but after that, I can’t remember where I put it. Or maybe I dropped it and didn’t realize it.”
She crossed her arms across her fluttering belly. “Did you text me around lunchtime?”
“I told you I had work way out on the property. No cell service. Not that I had my phone to call or text you. Why? What is going on?” The plea in his voice made her believe him.
She went to her purse, grabbed her phone, pulled up the texts, and turned the phone to show him.
Rage filled his eyes as he read. “No fucking way. I did not send that. No.” He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “I would never break up with you via text. That’s . . .” He touched his forehead to hers. The anger in his eyes dissipated to a plea. “No, Liz. I swear to you that wasn’t me.”
“Could it have been Clint?” the detective asked, sparking a whole new round of suspicions.
She and Tate both turned to him. Liz spoke first. “Why would you think that?”
“If he wants you back and Tate is in his way . . .”
She filled in the rest of that with dreadful thoughts. Who does something like that?
She glanced up at Tate. “But how did he get your phone?”
Tate shrugged. “I hardly ever lock my truck door. He could have walked right up to the truck and taken it out of my jacket without me or anyone knowing. I didn’t think to call you until I finished work and was headed back into the stables. That was late afternoon. I wanted to make plans with you for tonight. You knew I’d be out of reach, but something nagged at me when I couldn’t find my phone. I tried you twice.”
“I didn’t answer because I didn’t think we had anything left to say.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You mean so much to me, Liz.”
She leaned into his palm and took in the warmth and comfort of his skin against hers. Relief swept through her so heady it made her feel a little buzzed and giddy. He still wanted her.
“Are you sure you lost the phone?” the detective broke into their moment.
“I didn’t send her those texts.” Tate’s vehemence left her with no doubt he didn’t do it.
The detective held up his hand to ward off Tate’s further denial. “I want to be sure he took your phone and didn’t clone it or something.”
“I can’t find it anywhere. I’m usually careful about keeping it on me in case of emergency. I tried to track it, but