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Lord, I don’t know where you’re leading me, but I’m trusting in You. Guide me. Keep us safe.
“Ready?” Claire whispered.
Gavin relaxed the iron grip on his weapon and then nodded sharply. She pushed on the handle. The door was unlocked. Sobs filtered into the hall from inside the bedroom. Claire shoved the door open fully and Gavin swung inside, gun raised.
It was a sitting area. Silk couches were arranged near a fireplace. Thick drapes, drawn tight, cast the entire room in shadows. The scent of whiskey grew stronger. Several empty bottles were scattered around the room.
A woman was crouched in the corner. The shoulders of her housekeeper’s uniform shook with the force of her sobs. Cleaning supplies spilled across the carpet. Claire hurried over, crouching next to the housekeeper. Her voice was a whisper as she grasped the woman’s arm and tugged her into a standing position.
Gavin kept moving, searching for Ian. Another set of double doors led to an interior room. A four-poster bed came into view. The covers were twisted, dangling off the mattress to skim the floor. A familiar noise reached Gavin’s ears, but for a moment, he couldn’t place what it was. Then it struck him. It was the sound of a barrel spinning. Was Ian playing Russian roulette?
Taking a deep breath to counteract the burst of fresh adrenaline, Gavin entered the bedroom. It was empty. Another door led to an office with wood paneling. Ian was seated at the desk. Clothes wrinkled and stained, he sported a full beard. His hair was wild, standing on end, as if he’d been running his hands through it. The stark light from the lamp cast menacing shadows on his face. A half-drunk bottle of whiskey sat at his elbow.
He held a pistol in one hand, pointed to his own temple.
Gavin lifted his own weapon. As long as Ian held a gun, he presented a danger to himself and others. It wasn’t a risk to take lightly. “Mr. Scott, it’s Texas Ranger Gavin Sterling. Slowly put the gun down on the desk and raise your hands.”
Ian’s gaze lifted. His eyes were bloodshot. “No. I don’t deserve to live. Stephanie’s dead because of me.”
Gavin’s heart stuttered. He wanted to ask questions, but the priority was saving Ian’s life. “Whatever happened, we can sort it out. I can help you—”
“Help me? You can’t help me. I can’t prove my father killed her. You won’t be able to either. He’s too smart for the both of us.”
Shock reverberated through Gavin. His mind struggled to fit what he’d gathered about the case with Ian’s accusation. “Put the gun down. Let’s talk about it. We’ll figure out a way to get justice for Stephanie.”
“Dad was incensed when he found out I was dating her.” Ian took a swig of whiskey, never lowering the gun from his temple. A tear leaked from one bloodshot eye, trailing a track down his cheek. “I loved Stephanie. We started seeing each other in secret, and suddenly, my entire world fell into place. She wasn’t interested in my money or my last name. It was the first time in my life anyone cared about my dreams. I was going to marry her. We…we were going to have a family.”
His face flushed as his tone turned hard. “But she didn’t fit into the vision Dad had for me. The great Patrick Scott needs a family who can play the political game. A son to follow in his footsteps, with the perfect wife, and the experience to be a US senator.”
Movement behind Ian caught Gavin’s attention. Claire was visible through another open door leading into a hallway. Her gaze was locked on the mayor’s son. She edged forward. What was she doing?
Ian laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “I hate politics. It’s the last thing I want to do.”
Gavin fixed his gaze on the man in front of him. “I need you to put the gun down now.”
Ian ignored him, taking another swig of whiskey. “My dad confessed he’d offered Stephanie $100,000 to leave town and never speak to me again. He said she took the money.” He rose from the chair, tension coiling his body. His face was mottled with rage. “That was a lie. All this time, I thought Stephanie betrayed me. Betrayed us. But she didn’t. My father never gave her the money. He murdered her and buried her in the lake so no one would find out.”
Claire took another step forward into the room. She was three paces from Ian. Gavin’s chest tightened as he realized her intentions. She was attempting to disarm the man. It was reckless and extremely dangerous. Gavin tried to meet her gaze, but Claire’s sole focus was on Ian.
“Put the gun down.” Desperation bled into Gavin’s voice. “There’s no need to do this. You aren’t responsible for Stephanie’s death. She wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Ian swayed, seemingly to struggle with his emotions. “I didn’t kill her, but I’m the reason Stephanie’s dead. My sweet, sweet love…” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
His finger slid to the trigger. Gavin took a step forward, but the desk blocked his path. “No, Ian!”
Claire leapt, flying through the air and tackling Ian. They collided with the desk. Items toppled over and the lamp shattered as it hit the edge. Gavin made a grab for Ian and missed. The mayor’s son and Claire slid to the floor, a tangle of arms and legs.
The gun fired.
Fifteen
Claire pressed an ice pack to her bruised forearm. She rammed it against the unyielding desk in her scuffle with Ian. The hospital’s emergency room reception area was buzzing with activity. Ambulances came and went in a steady stream, paramedics rushing patients past the giant doors leading to the exam rooms. Half an hour ago, Ian was hurried threw those same doors, bleeding from a gunshot graze to the scalp. But he was alive. Claire was grateful.
Across the room, Gavin turned away from the coffee machine, holding two cups. His long strides ate up the distance between them. Butterflies rioted in Claire’s stomach. The man was a distraction she didn’t need but couldn’t escape. How was it possible they’d only been working together for several days? It felt like a lifetime.
He set the coffee cups on a nearby table. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s fine. Just bruised.” She tried for levity. “Remind me not to smash into any more desks, will you?”
