Tangled With A Texan. Yvonne Lindsay

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Название Tangled With A Texan
Автор произведения Yvonne Lindsay
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Серия
Издательство Современная зарубежная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474092692



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until later in the day, she realized. She clipped her badge onto her waistband and went inside, knowing that the badge might give her access she would otherwise not get.

      Sure enough, she was shown through to a ward where Janet Stevens was recovering. The young woman was in a room on her own—apparently having been moved there not long before, after a brief stint in ICU post surgery. That was obviously why Cord had been so protective of his friend, knowing the other man must have been worried about his sibling. Galicia’s protectiveness was, at its heart, an admirable trait, except for the part where he’d attempted to stall her investigation.

      It made her wonder anew if that incident between them last night hadn’t just been a distraction tactic. Something to blur her mind and keep her off Stevens’s trail. Maybe he’d thought the little woman would be so blown away by what he’d done to her that she’d even hightail it back home.

      Zoe discarded the thought almost as quickly as it bloomed in her mind. She’d been the one to pull him into her room, not the other way around. If anything, she was to blame for what had happened between them. And he’d been the one to walk away, unfulfilled. What did that say about the man? She shook her head. He was a conundrum, that was for sure. One she wouldn’t have minded exploring further, if the circumstances had been different. But they weren’t, and she had a job to do.

      Zoe presented her badge to the duty nurse and asked if she could have a few words with Janet Stevens. The nurse was cagey, but after a quick call to Janet’s doctor she said that Zoe was allowed five minutes, no more. Grateful for that, Zoe entered the younger woman’s room.

      Janet Stevens was pale but breathing without assistance. Walking farther into the room, Zoe watched the other woman as she opened her eyes.

      “Good morning, Ms. Stevens. How are you feeling today?”

      “Okay, I guess.”

      Janet’s voice was groggy, as if she was still on some heavy-duty pain relief.

      “I won’t take much of your time,” Zoe said quickly and introduced herself, explaining why she was there. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I can’t seem to get ahold of your brother. I need to ask him a few questions.”

      “About Vincent? Whatever for? I know Jesse was mad at him, but he would never have hurt him,” Janet protested.

      “Can you tell me why your brother was mad at Mr. Hamm?” Zoe pressed, feeling a surge of excitement that she might finally be getting closer to finding some of the answers she needed.

      “It’s all my fault,” Janet said weakly. “Jesse asked Vincent if he could return a favor and find me an internship at Perry Holdings. I’ve completed my MBA and Jesse thought Vincent would be decent about helping me. Turns out that while he was happy to accept Jesse’s help plenty of times, he wasn’t so keen to return the favor.”

      Would that have been enough to make Jesse Stevens commit murder? People killed over less. And it depended on the level of help Stevens had extended to Hamm in the past and what he thought the dead man owed him. She needed to meet the man to gauge for herself. A sound at the door had her looking up. Seemed she’d be meeting Jesse Stevens sooner rather than later, judging by the thunderous appearance on the face of the man entering the room.

      “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my sister’s room?” he growled.

      He was tall, blond like the girl in the bed beside her and he had piercing green eyes that looked as if they could cut through steel. His sister lifted a hand.

      “Jesse, please,” she implored gently.

      “Detective Zoe Warren, Houston P.D.,” Zoe said, gesturing to her badge on her waistband. “And you are?”

      Even though she knew exactly who he was, it was important to her to establish who was in control.

      “Jesse Stevens.”

      He answered bluntly, without offering his hand. It seemed she was persona non grata. A tiny smile curled her lips. Good, she liked knowing she’d riled him from the outset. Holding the upper hand was always her chosen starting point.

      “Ah, Mr. Stevens. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. Didn’t you get my messages?”

      A faint flush of color marked his cheeks. “I did.”

      She maintained her silence while raising one brow at him. His flush deepened. Just then, the nurse who’d directed Zoe to Janet’s room appeared in the door and gave Zoe a stern look.

      “Ms. Stevens needs to rest,” she said pointedly.

      “Thank you, I’m just leaving. Mr. Stevens, can I have a word with you outside?” Zoe asked.

      “One minute, that’s all.”

      Well, we’ll see about that, Zoe thought to herself as she preceded him into the hallway outside his sister’s room.

      “Is there somewhere we could speak privately?” Zoe asked the nurse.

      The woman gestured to a small sitting room down the hallway.

      “C’mon,” Zoe said to Stevens. “The sooner we get started, the sooner you can get back to your sister.”

      Realizing he had no reason to object, he fell into step behind her. Once they were in the room, Zoe closed the door behind him.

      “What do you want?” Jesse asked, his voice and stance both belligerent.

      “Just need to ask you a few questions.”

      “Ever heard of email?”

      Zoe snorted lightly. “It’s a strange thing,” she said slowly. “We cops prefer to do things face-to-face. You can learn a lot about a person that way. So, tell me, why have you been avoiding me? Got something to hide?”

      Anger flashed in his eyes for a moment before he visibly dragged himself under control.

      “I have nothing to hide. What’s this about?”

      “Vincent Hamm.” She threw the name into the conversation as if it were a gauntlet thrown in challenge.

      “I knew him. What about it?”

      “Been in touch with him lately?” she probed.

      His gaze grew flat and cold. “Not for a few months. Why?”

      “And when was the last time you spoke with him?”

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