If You Only Knew

Chapter Twenty-Seven



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RAYNA SPENT A big chunk of the night in the emergency room. It took fifteen stitches to close the two cuts on her throat. Another great place for a scar, plus her head was about to explode. She was a lousy patient on a good day, and this was by no stretch of the imagination a good day. Ty should be here with her, but Ty was MIA, and no one seemed able to tell her where he was.


She drew a long breath, then choked on the antiseptic air that filled her throat and lungs. Hospitals. She hated them. A couple of coughs later, her hand flew to the bandage on her throat and pressed back against the sharp pains that spiked across her neck and shoulder.

She’d refused the pain medication the doctors had offered. The pain was what kept her from going completely numb. She desperately needed to feel something besides the loneliness and worry each time Ty’s image replayed in her head as he disappeared into the warehouse. She shouldn’t have let him go—she should have gone with him. At least then, she’d know if he was all right, and this looming apprehension wouldn’t be churning up her insides.

It was the early hours of the morning when a nurse finally wheeled her into a room with a bed. Rayna didn’t bother to change into the unattractive gown they provided, crawling on the clean bed fully dressed instead. She almost didn’t notice the police officer who followed her in until he whipped out his notebook.

“I’m Sergeant Grayson. I’d like to ask you a few questions. How do you know Andre Komarov?” The sergeant sat on the edge of the chair beside her bed, and started his inquisition without waiting for her acknowledgment.

Nate’s rugged face flashed in front of her, his advice planted firmly in her mind. Don’t remember a thing.

Rayna yawned and tapped a finger on her bandage. “He hurt me.”

The sergeant frowned. “Yes, ma’am. Did you know the deceased, formerly Special Agent Sean Phillips?”

“Not before yesterday.” That was the truth at least. What she hadn’t known until this moment was that he was dead, and she rolled out her poker face when she glanced at the officer. She shifted onto her back and got settled comfortably. Her eyes slowly closed as she yawned one more time.

“Just a couple more questions, Ms. Dugan. How well do you know Tyler Whitlock?”

She tried to hide the smile that pulled outward at the corners of her mouth, but either she was too tired or too rummy. “Not as well as I’d like to, Sergeant.”

The poor guy cleared his throat, obviously giving up on any more questions for the night, flipped his notebook closed, and got to his feet. “Thank you, Ms. Dugan. If I need anything else, I’ll stop back tomorrow.” His footsteps hustled out of the room.

Rayna was asleep before the smile faded from her face.



EARLY THE NEXT morning, Joe and Walker descended on her room to spring her. More than ready to leave the hospital and disappointed Ty hadn’t turned up yet, her mood fell far short of pleasant.

She plopped into the wheelchair the hospital staff insisted she use. It was her neck that sustained the injury—not her feet or legs, or anything else that prevented her from walking out under her own power. Gritting her teeth, she managed to curtail her comments.

Walker must have realized how close she was to going ballistic. He pushed her away from the nurses’ station while Joe signed her release papers. When they were close to the exit and far enough from listening ears, he stopped her chair and stepped around in front of her.

“Calm down, Rayna. What’s eating you?”

His deep scowl had long since lost its intimidation value for her. She ignored his question. Suddenly, her chair jerked and started to move toward the exit again.

Joe leaned toward her ear. “Let’s take this outside.”

On the curb, Rayna jumped from the chair as soon as it stopped. “Where’s Ty?”

Joe pushed the wheelchair back toward the door, took her arm, and propelled her across the parking lot toward Nate’s Jeep. He lowered his voice. “Ty and Bree are being held on murder charges for the death of Sean Phillips and Andre’s men.”

Rayna planted her feet and turned toward him. “Murder? What happened after he went back in with Bree?” She paid no attention to the people headed for the entrance who craned their necks to stare.

Joe pushed her toward the vehicle door Walker already had open. “Take it easy. He didn’t kill anyone.”

She stopped again, fury flooding her. “It was her. Wasn’t it? Bree. And he’s protecting her again.”

“Actually, it was me.”

Rayna spun around and came face-to-face with Nate. Deep lines creased his forehead. His eyes were red and outlined with black circles. He removed his baseball cap and shifted it from hand to hand, avoiding her eyes.

“Nate? Are you okay?” Obviously he wasn’t, but the words shot out before she could stop them.

“I’ll be okay. Look, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Ty will ask, and if I don’t have an answer, there’ll be hell to pay.” A shadow of a smile materialized for a heartbeat. “I have to get going.”

Rayna reached to touch his arm. “Is he okay?”

Nate’s gaze skipped away from hers. “I can’t talk about the investigation, but I will say one thing. Captain Oswald is an a*shole. He never did appreciate Ty’s sense of humor, and there were suspicions when Ty quit the way he did. The captain will push this as far as he can legally, but eventually he’ll have to turn them loose. It won’t be long now. In the meantime, Ty wants Joe to take you home.”

Like hell. Rayna fumed. She wasn’t leaving here without Ty.

She made polite small talk with Nate until he waved and pulled out of the parking lot in his unmarked police car. Walker held the Jeep’s door open while she slid onto the backseat, all the while trying to make sense of Ty’s mandate to take her home. If he truly was expecting to be set free any hour, why wouldn’t he want her here?

Rayna tried to hold on to the wonder of what they’d shared—of Ty’s thoughtfulness and consideration, and the hope that it wasn’t too late for them. The last words he’d spoken to her promised that he’d be back. He’d asked her to trust him. Why was that so hard for her? She owed him that and much more. She owed him her loyalty and her love… if he wanted it.

The drive back to Nate’s uncle’s place was silent. She caught Joe watching her in the rearview once, his eyebrow quirked questioningly, but she didn’t bite. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Ty.

She headed out to the deck as soon as they parked. Ribs met her halfway, wagging his tail and hopping on his front legs as he circled her, rubbing his body all over hers. Rayna was just as happy to see him and sank down to her knees, wrapping her arms around the dog’s square, muscular body.

His scratches were still clean and didn’t seem to slow him down. Rayna gave him a firm hug, relieved that he showed no ill effects of the sleeping pills Sean had given him. Someone, probably Walker, had fed the dog, and there were a few nuggets still in the bottom of his bowl. Walker, for all of his rough-around-the-edges persona, would have remembered to include Ribs’s little white pill as well.

She threw the stick for Ribs to chase a few times, but he soon gave up, took it back to his blanket, and lay down beside it. “Tired already, boy?” Rayna was exhausted, too, and took the opportunity to crash on the porch swing. There was a chill in the air this morning that quickly worked its way through her thin cotton top, and she folded her arms to hold in as much heat as possible. She’d had to relinquish Ty’s shirt to the police so they’d have their bloody evidence, and the chill that swept over her arms might be more from missing the clean, spicy scent of Ty, than from the lighter-weight top they’d given her to wear.


Rayna curled her legs under her and stared at the green fields just outside the backyard. What was she going to do now? School wasn’t the life she wanted—at least not now. She’d have to go back to LA to pack up her small apartment. Where would she go after that?

Could she go back to Joe’s if Ty meant what he said—if he was really moving on? An ache started in her stomach and worked its way slowly to her chest. Desperation constricted her throat and made each breath a chore. She dropped her head into her hands as guilt surrounded her. This was exactly what she’d put Ty through when she left. Thoughtless and spoiled, she’d considered no one but herself.

Ribs’s head came up, and he peered toward the house. Joe stepped outside, his arm over Madison’s shoulders.

When they stopped before Rayna, Joe knelt in front of Madison. “I have to talk to Maria for a minute. Will you stay with Rayna while I do that?”

Madison studied him seriously, then nodded.

Rayna held her hand out for the little girl. “Come sit with me.” The tension that charged the air all around Joe gave away his intention to break the news of Sean’s death to Maria. Lord only knew what that meant for her son, Marco.

Madison accepted her hand and climbed onto the swing beside her, then pointed to the bandage on Rayna’s throat. “What happened?”

Rayna fingered the bandage. “I cut myself. It bled a lot, but it’s okay now because the doctors stitched it up.”

“Does it hurt?” Madison wrinkled her nose.

“No, not much. Hey, are you hungry?”

The little girl giggled. “No. I just had breakfast.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. Well, I haven’t had anything. Why don’t you tell me what you ate, and I’ll see if anything sounds good to me?” Rayna smiled at the serious expression on Madison’s face as the game began.

A few minutes later, Maria called Madison. Joe appeared and strode toward Rayna, carrying two glasses of iced tea.

“How did it go?” Rayna accepted the glass he offered.

“It sucked.” Joe sat in the swing beside her, put his arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. “You want in?” He was going after whoever was holding Marco, and in an instant, her mind was made up. She was going home.

Rayna hesitated only a second. “You know I do.” She smiled, surprisingly happy for the first time in weeks, and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Before you decide, you should know I’m also asking Ty, providing things go as planned for him.”

“I can live with that, if he can.”

Joe leaned forward and turned to grab a handful of her hair and pull. “Rayna, what’s going on in that hard head of yours? Anybody can see the man is in love with you.”

“I know.” She smiled briefly. “I just hope it’s enough to make him stay.”

“I bet all you’d have to do is ask him.” Joe opened his mouth to say more, then glanced away. “You two are adults. I assume you’ll eventually communicate and see if there’s anything here to salvage. In any case, I’m glad you’re coming home.”

“I was thinking I should go to LA, pack up, and turn in the key to the apartment as soon as possible. Will you take me? I can rent an SUV and haul my stuff to Montana, plus I could pick up Ribs. It’s all right if Ribs comes, isn’t it? That would give me some time to think—get my head on straight.” Rayna felt like she was rambling—talking just to fill the empty space—so she finally took a breath.

A grin tugged his lips as he stared at her for the longest time before he answered. “Sure, I can do that. Andre and three of his top lieutenants are on their way to Russia, and it’s not likely they’ll ever set foot in the States again. You’re home free.”

Relief turned her lips up at the corners. “How soon can we leave?”

“How’s tomorrow morning?” Joe stood and walked away without waiting for an answer.

Rayna managed to shower without getting her stitches wet and changed into one of the tops Walker had picked up for her. She shoved her few belongings into the bags the new clothes had come in and was ready to go. Hopefully, Nate would agree to feed and water Ribs until she could return to get him. Anything the dog needed—bowls, toys, a bed—she’d pick up on the way. Probably should get a collar and leash too.

It was late afternoon when she went back downstairs, fed Ribs, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for herself, and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. No one else was around, so she scribbled a note telling Joe she was going for a walk and left it propped in the center of the kitchen table.

The wind had picked up by the time she stepped outside, and dark clouds, heavy with rain, approached from the west. Good thing she wouldn’t melt. She needed this walk. Every time she slowed down long enough to think, Ty’s charming smile and green eyes appeared out of thin air.

Was Joe right? Was it as simple as asking Ty to stay with her? She was fairly certain Ty loved her, but her actions had thoughtlessly and callously hurt him. He could decide not to chance it again. If she asked him to stay and he turned her down, how would she keep going? That would be devastating—just like her leaving had no doubt been to him. Maybe the fair thing to do was let him make up his own mind. That was the coward’s way out. A brave person would fight for what she wanted.

Well, who the heck ever said she was brave?

“Come on, Ribs.” Rayna stepped off the deck and strode across the yard to the gate. She checked one more time for her forty-five tucked comfortingly against her back. People crashing the fence and marauding cougars would be as unlikely as lightning striking twice, but it never hurt to be prepared. She had Walker to thank for that little axiom.

Ribs trotted along beside her as she followed the overgrown dirt road until they stood at the edge of the meadow that held the old wooden barn. Today, Ribs seemed to have no qualms about approaching the rickety old building. The dog’s harrowing experience apparently forgotten, he ranged out in front, head high, clearly intent on catching all of the interesting smells. Dogs lived in the moment—that was what the Dog Whisperer said, anyway. Wouldn’t it be great to be able to pull that off?

Beautiful wildflowers filled the meadow—lupine, blue flax, coreopsis, and many varieties she couldn’t put a name to—along with butterflies of every color. The sun was warm, but now lightning snaked across the sky in the west and the air smelled like rain.

When she reached the barn, Ribs lay outside, in the shade of the building, panting. His square body resembled a tank, and Rayna smiled as she knelt to scratch his ears. “You’re coming home with me, Ribs. Hope you like it there.”

Ribs cocked his head and stared her down. Rayna chuckled. Just as she suspected—the dog knew what was going to happen long before she did.

She stood and pushed through the barn door with Ribs right behind her. No wild animal screams or blurs of tawny bodies gave her pause. Nothing but the smell of aged hay, dust, and sunlight streaming through cracks in the walls.

Rayna didn’t look for bloodstains on the dirt floor. She didn’t need that reminder. Instead, she meandered to the back of the barn and pulled herself onto the hay stacked there. Ribs clambered up beside her and lay with his head on her leg. She stroked the flat spot between his ears.

“You know, it’ll be different in Montana. It gets colder—more snow. I’m not sure I can talk Joe into letting you be a house dog.”


Ribs didn’t move, just fixed his sad brown eyes on her.

She groaned. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

Rayna’s gaze darted toward the door as a gust of wind rattled the barn and sent dry leaves and grass skittering across the dirt floor. As though someone dialed down the dimmer switch, the sunlight disappeared, leaving them in a sea of dusk. Strong gusts of wind whistled through tiny gaps in the walls, and thunder rumbled in the distance. With the disappearance of the sun, the temperature dropped ten or fifteen degrees, and Rayna wedged herself into a small crevasse between bales. She should have taken the time to hunt up a jacket before she left the house.

“Oh well. At least we’re dry. Right, Ribs?” She leaned over and ruffled his ears.

The next instant, she jerked upright as blue light flashed around her, seeming to come from everywhere at once. It was followed immediately by an earsplitting crack of thunder that started right above her head and reverberated outward. The wind slammed into the shaky sides, banging the door against its tracks, and then the rain started. Moderately at first, then a deluge, then it turned to nickel-sized hail that pelted the walls and metal roof of the barn until she couldn’t hear herself think.

Ribs had popped to his feet with the deafening thunder and now leaned against her side, growling deep and watching the door. Rayna reached for him and drew him tightly against her, not sure who was comforting whom. Common sense said it was ridiculous to be frightened by a storm, but she’d give anything to be back at the house right now.

The hail let up, reverting to steady rain. White, slushy ice covered the ground beyond the door. It looked like a snowstorm had swept the meadow. “We’ll get our feet wet going back. Do dogs care about that?” She laid her head against his neck while she hugged him.

Suddenly fear quickened her breath, and her gaze darted again toward the door. Was it a trick of her mind, or did a shadow—a split second of darkening—slide in front of the opening? She held her breath and focused her attention close to the ground, searching for feral eyes or lithe movements in the gloom. It didn’t help that Ribs’s ears perked up as he jumped down off the stack.

Rayna scrambled down behind him and pulled her handgun from her waistband. This time the dog wasn’t going up against whatever had taken refuge in the barn by himself. Not as long as she was alive.