Yvonne Lindsay – Tangled With A Texan (страница 3)
Those intriguing eyes narrowed as he looked at her, and she realized that neither of them had spoken.
“Miss? Can I help you?”
His voice poured over her. Deep and strong and sexy as hell. This guy could recite a list of traffic infringements and make her knees turn to water.
“Detective,” she corrected him, showing him her badge. “Zoe Warren, Houston P.D.”
“You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?”
She wasn’t mistaken. The warmth and pure male interest she’d seen reflected in his eyes had dimmed, his gaze sharpening warily.
“The boundaries of our investigation have stretched a little,” she said carefully. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, Mister…?”
“Cord Galicia,” he answered abruptly and thrust out his hand.
Zoe debated taking it. If her reaction to him on a purely visual basis had been so extreme, how on earth would she react when she actually touched him? There was only one way to find out. She drew in a sharp breath, took the proffered hand and clasped it. A slow sizzle of awareness tracked along her skin. His hand was larger than hers, the palm firm, and she could feel the calluses that spoke of the hard work he did. The title of rancher wasn’t simply some token. This man clearly worked, and worked hard. Did he apply himself to everything else he did with as much vigor? she wondered before giving his hand a quick shake and releasing it.
“May I come in?” she asked.
To her surprise, her voice remained steady. Quite a feat when her insides were jangling about as hard as they had in junior high when she’d been asked to prom by the captain of the soccer team. She was already head and shoulders taller than him but it hadn’t bothered her—until she found out the whole thing had been a joke designed by the rest of the team. But that initial response, the delicious sense of anticipation and excitement, she’d never forget. She just never expected to feel it here on the outskirts of Royal, Texas, while working a homicide investigation.
For a moment it looked as if he’d refuse, but then he stepped back from the doorway and gestured for her to move inside. He closed the door decisively behind her, but Zoe didn’t let it rattle her. She’d dealt with people with far fewer social graces than Cord Galicia.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked as he led the way into a large open-plan living room.
“Water would be great, thanks.”
“Take a seat,” he said gruffly before heading through a doorway toward what was, presumably, the kitchen.
Zoe sank into a large leather sofa. In a smaller room the piece of furniture would have dominated, but not here. She looked around, taking in the high raftered ceiling—must be a bitch to keep clean, she pondered—and the tall windows that led to a paved courtyard outside. Large round ceramic pots in a jumble of bright colors, some with mosaics, were filled with flowers, and beyond that Zoe caught a glimpse of the sparkle of late-afternoon sunlight on water. A pool or an ornamental pond? she wondered.
“Here you are.”
Cord Galicia stood before her holding a sweating tall glass of water in one hand. She reached up to take it.
“Thank you.”
The man moved with the stealth of a wild animal, she realized. There weren’t many who could sneak up on her like that.
“You said you had questions,” he said as he settled onto the other end of the sofa.
“Yes, I do. Your neighbor, Jesse Stevens—are you well acquainted?”
She knew the men were best friends, but she was curious to see how Galicia reacted to being questioned. She kept her eyes focused on her host and didn’t miss the way his body stiffened.
“What do you want with Jesse?”
“Please, Mr. Galicia, just answer the question.”
“He’s my neighbor, of course we’re acquainted,” Cord said begrudgingly. “But I don’t see what he has to do with some investigation in Houston.”
“That’s my job,” Zoe said with a grim smile. “Tell me, what’s Mr. Stevens like as a man?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is he quick to anger? The type to follow up on a grudge?”
“I don’t like where you’re heading with this. Jesse is a decent man and an upstanding member of our community. If you’re looking at him, you’re looking in the wrong direction.”
Zoe decided to take a different tack. “Do you remember Vincent Hamm?”
“Yeah, he grew up around here. We all did.”
“Were he and Mr. Stevens particularly close?”
Cord shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t say that. Jesse knew him, sure. But we all did. Is that who this is about? Hamm? Look, we were sorry to hear he’d passed, but it’s not like we’ll miss him. Seriously, we haven’t moved in the same circles for years. Like I said, if you’re after Jesse, you’re after the wrong person. He’s the most law-abiding and stand-up person I know.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t immediately jump to believe you. That’s pretty much what everyone says when asked about the people they think they know.”
“T
“Zoe, please.”
Oh, so she was attempting to play nice now? He let his gaze drift over her. He wouldn’t have minded playing nice with her, if she’d been anything but a cop. She was exactly his type. Long and lean with sweet curves in just the right places. Even her short-cropped dark hair was sexy, and he bet it looked even sexier mussed up against a crisp white cotton-covered pillow. He shifted slightly in his seat as his body reacted in ways his mind was determined not to.
“The fact remains, I know my friend,
She dragged in a deep breath, and he couldn’t help but notice how her fitted shirt strained against the buttons across her chest. Oh yes, sweet curves all right. But off-limits, as was any woman serving in the police force. Cord let his gaze drift to the photo frame sitting on the antique sideboard across the room. Britney. God. Seeing her graduation picture from the police academy every day was a reminder of everything he’d lost. Her death two years ago, while on her first shift of active duty, had been soul destroying, and it was Jesse who’d kept him sane through that awful, dark time.
No, Jesse was not the kind of man to commit murder, and Cord would do whatever he could to ensure Detective Warren knew that. And, he reminded himself as he flicked his gaze back to the woman in front of him, if he ever embarked on a long-term relationship again, it wouldn’t be with a woman who wore a badge and a gun and hunted down bad guys for a living. No matter how much his libido told him otherwise.
“Sometimes we’re not always honest with the people we’re closest to,” she said in an obvious attempt to placate him. “Do you know when would be a good time for me to catch Mr. Stevens at home? I called on him earlier and no one was in.”
“He runs a working ranch, so I guess it’s safe to say there’s never a good time. We have to make the most of the daylight hours available to us,” Cord said, hedging, unwilling to give the woman more information than was absolutely necessary.
“Well, I caught you at home, didn’t I? Mr. Galicia, are you being deliberately obstructive or is this just your charming way of treating all strangers?”
“Obstructive?” Cord felt a trickle of irritation at her insinuation. He wasn’t being obstructive; he was being careful. They were two very different things.
“That’s the usual terminology when someone deliberately withholds information.”
He watched as she picked up her water glass and drained it. Her throat was long and slender, the muscles working delicately as she swallowed her drink. Damn if the sight of that pale column of skin didn’t give him a hard-on. She snapped the glass back onto the table in front of her and rose on those enticingly long legs, then reached into her back pocket for a business card. She handed it to him as he hastened to stand.
“Call me if you suddenly remember how I can best reach Mr. Stevens,” she said with a slight curl of her lip. “I’ll be staying in Royal for a few days.”
“Does the sheriff know you’re in town?”
He could see she wanted to tell him that was none of his business, but instead she gave him a brusque nod.
“Of course,” she said. “He’s assisting in my inquiries.”
Cord nodded. That made sense. The sheriff and the Hamm family went way back. “Maybe he can tell you how to get ahold of Jesse, since he’s assisting you and all.”
He couldn’t resist goading her just a little. It rankled that she’d come out here without any notice on some jumped-up idea that Jesse was involved in Vincent Hamm’s murder. The very thought was ridiculous. Jesse was the kind of guy to always bend over backward to help others, and Cord knew he’d gone the extra mile with Hamm on several occasions. And then the one time Jesse had to ask Hamm for a favor…
A frisson of warning prickled at the back of his mind. Was that what this was about? Had this woman unearthed something about Jesse asking Hamm a favor? A favor Hamm had refused to act on. Was that her angle? That Jesse had somehow been mad enough to exact revenge?