“Okay,” Brock said, his gaze knowing.
Heath assisted Brock up. “I’ll stick with you guys since I’m Zara’s lawyer, and I’ve met most of the cops around here anyway. We need somebody to grab the real envelope out of Ryker’s truck to give to the police for good old Norton there.”
Norton watched the proceedings. “I’m going to kill you all.”
Ryker snorted. “You are such a moron.” Not for one moment had he doubted that Heath and Denver would come for him. His chest warmed. “Let’s start at the beginning. Which of you dumb-asses allowed Zara to put herself in danger?”
“Allow? Did you really just say ‘allow’?” Zara emerged from the bathroom, her hands full of bandages. “Boy, are we going to talk.”
He met her gaze levelly. “Oh, baby, you’ve got that right.”
Chapter
32
Zara’s hands shook as she finished drawing one of Ryker’s big T-shirts over her head in his master bathroom. He’d been shot. The man had actually been shot. Tears pooled in her eyes again, and she shoved them away. Not once in her life had she felt fear like that. She didn’t want to go back to her lonely life without him. Never again.
She rubbed lotion into her hands and moved into the bedroom, where he rested on top of the bed. Shirtless, with a bandage covering his right shoulder and his long legs stretched out in sweats. “Are you sure Greg is contained?” The kid had finished waiting for the weather to change and now wanted to hot-wire the truck to go searching for his brothers on his own.
Ryker nodded. “Yeah. He’s bunking at Denver’s, who’s going through all the computer searches with him to prove we’re trying to find Dr. Madison. The airports are still closed, but I’m thinking they’ll be open tomorrow, and Heath will head to Snowville on the Copper Killer case.”
Good. That was good. “How’s the shoulder?” she asked.
“Better.” He scratched at the bandage. “Denver stitched me up nicer than a doctor would have.”
Zara lifted both eyebrows. “Brock Hurst called from the hospital while you were being stitched together. He gave the diary to the cops along with a cuffed Detective Norton, and it looks like you and I need to go give statements tomorrow. Right now Brock is handling everything as my lawyer, and he said the cops seem to be reeling a little bit.”
“I’m sure. Norton had it all planned out.”
“I guess Mayor Pentley has already held two news conferences and is using the situation to his advantage,” Zara said.
“He’s a prick,” Ryker agreed.
“Also, Brock said that Julie’s autopsy results came back. Her body shows long-term use of several narcotics.” Zara’s voice wavered, and her stomach hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Ryker murmured.
“Me too.”
He kept his gaze on her, his eyes so damn direct. “Come here, baby. We need to talk.”
That voice. Dark and deep…so intent. She moved toward him, her bare feet padding on the hard concrete floor. “I can’t believe Detective Norton killed Julie.” Finally, now that there were answers, the reality of her friend’s death hit her. “Or that she was doing drugs and playing with those Picalo people. I honestly had no idea.” How could she have lost touch to such a degree? Guilt swamped her.
Ryker snagged her wrist and tugged her onto the bed. “None of that was your fault.”
“I know.” But her friend had been in trouble, and she hadn’t even known. First, Julie had ended up with a guy who hit, and then with another who did drugs and had killed her. “But still, I had no clue. Part of me feels terrible for her, and the other part is angry that she lied to me. That she used me for drug money.”
Ryker’s gaze softened. “It’s okay to feel a lot of different things at once. The entire situation is painful.”
She nodded, knowing he was somebody she could truly trust. “You got shot.” Tears filled her eyes again, her heart aching.
“I’m fine.” He pulled her, and she slid forward, kneeling next to him. “We need to leave Denver out of our reports when we talk to the police.”
She drew in air. “I figured.”
He smoothed hair back from her face. “Denver doesn’t exist to them, and I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible.” Ryker settled his hand over her shoulder—her entire shoulder. “All right?”
“Do you exist?” She looked up to his knowing gaze.
“I’m right here, aren’t I?” He caressed down her arm to take her hand.
Warmth surrounded her palm as his enclosed hers in safety. “You know what I mean.”
He nodded. “I do know. I exist, and I’ll make a statement to the police about Detective Norton.”
She eyed him. “All right.”
Smoothly, he grasped her waist and lifted her to sit astride him.