One Night Standoff - By Delores Fossen Page 0,20
his head. “And she’s in a coma. She’s been that way since she was shot three months ago.”
By Clayton’s foster brother Dallas. Lenora had read all those details, too. Dallas had been forced to shoot the woman when she tried to kill him and his soon-to-be wife, Joelle.
“I wanted Webb dead,” Clayton volunteered. “But I didn’t help Sarah kill him or dispose of the body. And no one else in my family did, either.”
Ranger Morris didn’t have a reaction to that and looked at the notepad he pulled from his pocket. “I saw in your medical records from Rocky Creek that you were running a fever the night Webb disappeared.”
“One hundred two degrees,” Clayton confirmed. “I slept through the night.”
“So a couple of your brothers said.” Morris drew in a long breath. “I guess you see the problem with that. All of you are each other’s alibis, but we know that Sarah had an accomplice who either lived in the facility or had access to it.”
“There were plenty of other kids living in that place,” Clayton explained. “I hope you’re looking as hard at them as you are at me and my brothers.”
“I am.” Morris paused. “And, of course, I’m looking into your father, too.”
“Kirby had nothing to do with this,” Clayton snapped.
He glanced at his notes again. “That’s the identical comment I got from all your brothers.”
“Because it’s not just a comment, it’s the truth.” Clayton didn’t hesitate.
The Ranger made a sound that could have meant anything. “I have to put this in my report, so I need to know if you saw or heard anything suspicious the night that Webb disappeared.”
“Nothing.” Again, no hesitation, but this time Clayton opened the door. “I need to get Lenora off her feet,” he added, and it had a definite goodbye tone.
Ranger Morris looked as if he wanted to demand that the interview continue, but Lenora slid her hand over her stomach. She wasn’t hurting, the baby had even stopped kicking, but she figured it would get Morris to back off.
It did.
He tipped his hat. “I’ll be in touch with you soon,” Morris assured him, and he walked off the porch toward a dark blue truck.
Clayton didn’t waste any time. He got her inside and shut the door, locked it, but he didn’t go far. He stopped and leaned the back of his head against the glass insert on the door.
“How bad is the headache?” she asked in a whisper. Lenora eased off his Stetson and put it on a peg hook next to the door. “And before you answer, I’d prefer the truth.”
“I’ve had worse,” he mumbled.
She was afraid that was indeed the truth, and it was a stark reminder that Clayton wouldn’t be going through this if it wasn’t for her. She was the reason he’d been shot in the first place.
Lenora pressed the wet tissues against his neck again. This time, the front. “Do the doctors have any idea how much longer you’ll get the headaches?”
He pulled off his glasses, hooked them on his jeans pocket and met her gaze. “They’re getting farther apart.”
She stared at him. “Do you do that a lot—dodge questions that you don’t want to answer?”
He made another of those noncommittal sounds, obviously still not planning to answer. That meant he might be dealing with these for the rest of his life.
The glass panel on the door made this part of the entry light, so Lenora took him by the arm and led him into the dark room on the right. It was a den with brown leather furniture, but thankfully all the blinds were closed on the row of windows on the far wall. Since she doubted that she could convince him to sit, Lenora put him back against the wall and continued to put the wet tissues on his throat.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled and would have moved away from her if she hadn’t blocked him with her body.
It didn’t take her long to realize that just wasn’t a good idea. Her breasts landed against his chest, and the close contact gave her another jolting reminder that Clayton was, well, hot. She’d thought it the first time she laid eyes on him, and apparently her body wasn’t about to reverse that opinion now.
She tried to step back, but this time it was Clayton who did the stopping. He snagged her by the wrist before she could put some distance between them. Lenora was about to tell him it wasn’t a good idea, but then