Page 35 of Ranger Devotion

The easy affection was something he’d done hundreds of times in high school. All those familiar emotions—camaraderie, friendship, closeness—rushed back. She wrapped an arm around his waist. “I have to admit, Tate, this partnership is unexpected. If you’d asked me two days ago to work together on anything with you—let alone a murder investigation—it would’ve been a hard no. And yet, here we are.”

He glanced down at her. “I’m grateful for the second chance. And I hope, in time, to prove your faith in me isn’t misguided.” Tate brushed a sweet kiss across her temple and then stepped back. “Come on. We have work to do.”

He started across the lobby. Cool air rushed in where his warmth had been. She missed the connection instantly. No matter what she did, Tate just kept sneaking past all her barriers. She’d heard the loaded emotion in his words: I hope, in time, to prove your faith in me isn’t misguided.

Whatever was going on between her and Tate, he felt it too. Possibility—something she hadn’t allowed herself to indulge in—rose within her. Could she trust him with her heart? Would she be able to give him an honest chance?

Annie wasn’t sure. There was so much hurt between them. Yes, it’d happened a long time ago, but the humiliation she’d suffered from Tate’s actions had scarred her. And while she might have forgiven him, she hadn’t forgotten. Nor could she. She’d been bracing for the other shoe to drop since this began, searching for mistakes, waiting for him to disappoint her.

It wasn’t fair. But Annie didn’t know how to stop it.

Yet for the first time since Tate walked back into her life…she wanted to.

SEVENTEEN

Tate crossed the lobby, his heart in his throat. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. Annie was harboring doubts about him, ones he’d planted years ago with his betrayal. But being around her…talking…joking and teasing one another…he’d forgotten how easy it was between them. As a teen, he hadn’t appreciate it. As an adult, Tate knew how rare that kind of connection was.

He’d told himself that the smart move was to guard his heart. Too late.

He wanted a second chance with her.

Whether he got one…well, that was up to Annie. And he knew she wasn’t ready to discuss it. So Tate swallowed the words he wanted to say, and prayed the right time would present itself.

In the meantime, he needed to focus on finding the killer. Or killers.

Annie caught up with him, and together they entered the dining room. It smelled of tomato sauce and basil. Tables along the wall were lined with toppings. People mingled and chatted as they fixed their pizzas. Country music played from a speaker in the corner. Tate’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in…he couldn’t remember when. But his hunger faded when he realized Caleb wasn’t in the dining room.

“He didn’t want to participate.” Brooke used the back of her hand to push away an errant curl from her forehead, leaving a dusting of flour on her ochre skin. “Try the game room. He was heading that way last time I saw him.”

Tate did a quick headcount. Three people, including Caleb, were missing. Keeping track of everyone was going to be nearly impossible. “Where is everyone else?”

“Lionel is manning the oven in the kitchen. Heather had a migraine and went to lie down.” Brooke frowned. “I’m pretty worried about her, actually. She’s taking Kayla’s death really hard.”

“You’re surprised by that?” Tate asked.

“Honestly, yeah. Kayla and Heather had a falling out a few weeks before graduation, and it’s my understanding they only recently reconnected.” Brooke winced. “I mean…we’re all upset about Kayla’s death. I don’t want to make it sound like we aren’t, but Heather is taking it especially hard.”

“I’m sure the stress of this situation isn’t helping.” Annie picked up a napkin from a nearby table and swiped at the flour on Brooke’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll check on Heather after we talk to Caleb.”

They said goodbye and went back across the lobby to the rear hallway. A television blared, and it didn’t take long to locate Caleb in the game room. He was leaning against the wall, typing on his phone, a faint crease between his brows. When he noticed their arrival, he quickly tucked the device into his back pocket. “Hey, guys.”

Annie grabbed the remote from the arm of a worn-out leather couch and muted the television. “You didn’t want pizza?”

“Not hungry.”

“Oh, okay.” She cast him a sympathetic look. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“You can say that again.” Caleb ambled over to the pool table and racked the balls.

Keeping busy, Tate noted. Because he was nervous? Maybe. His hands were awfully steady, if he was. Not a tremor in his fingers. Caleb moved with efficiency, as if he’d played pool thousands of times. Shaggy brown hair fell over his forehead as he stacked the solids and stripes. He was dressed in worn jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt. Beaten-in work boots. He looked every inch the blue-collar townie he was.

“Listen, I told Tate about the text you received from me.” Annie leaned against the couch. “The one that asked you to go to the stables so we could talk. Would you mind showing it to us again?”

“I deleted it.” Caleb settled the rack into place and lifted it away. He didn’t look at either of them. “Sorry. I thought someone hacked my phone. Deleted the text and ran anti-malware, just in case. Should I not have?”

It was a reasonable answer, but the practiced way Caleb offered it up felt off. Annie shot a quick glance at Tate, and he saw his doubts reflected in her eyes.

Tate ran through everything he knew about Caleb. Only child of a single mom. Worked as an electrician. Never married. No kids. Wickedly smart, enough to have gotten a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious university before it was yanked away for cheating. And as Caleb broke and several balls landed in the pockets, Tate added one more trait—pool shark.