Natural-Born Protector

She turned away from the mirror and checked her wristwatch. Almost nine. Hank would be here soon to accompany her to the bar.

She wasn’t sure why she trusted Hank Tyler, but she did. There was something solid about him. She liked his direct gaze and the straight answers he’d given her over coffee. Besides, he was working for the West family. That went a long way in alleviating any fear she might have that he was a nut.

After she’d left the café and Hank that afternoon, she’d gone straight to the sheriff’s office and met with Zack West. He’d assured her that they were doing everything in their power to find Lainie’s killer.

“But I’ll be straight with you, Melody. We don’t have any real leads and your sister didn’t have a conventional lifestyle.”

“The night of the murder she left a message on my answering machine and told me she was going out with somebody new. I don’t suppose you’ve identified who that might have been?” she’d asked.

Zack shook his head, his green eyes sympathetic. “Not yet. But I’ve told your mother and I’m telling you, I won’t rest until we have the killer behind bars.”

She’d left the office satisfied that Zack and his men were doing everything they could to solve the crime, but unsure just how successful they would be.

As irrational as it was, she felt as if she were the only one who could find the answers. She was the one who had known Lainie better than anyone and she owed it to her sister to help her rest in peace. The only way that would happen was if Lainie’s murderer was found and punished.

The soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she hurried to answer. Hank had underdressed for the night as well. Clad in tight worn jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked both slightly dangerous and capable of handling anything that might come his way.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as she grabbed her purse from the sofa.

“Are you sure you want to?” she countered.

He flashed her a small smile. “I’m in if you are.”

“Then let’s go.” She locked the door behind her and together they left the building and walked out into the warm night air.

“We’ll take my car,” he said as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “If we run into any problems I know mine has the horsepower we need to make a fast getaway.” He gestured toward a bright red sports car, a larger model that seated four.

“Definitely better horsepower than my rental,” she agreed. “Are you expecting trouble?”

He shrugged. “I like to be a good Boy Scout and be prepared for anything.” He opened the passenger door and she slid inside, then watched as he went around the front of the car to the driver’s side.

She drew a tremulous sigh. Hank Tyler had been attractive in his dress slacks and shirt, but he looked like pure sin in those jeans and T-shirt. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead and only added to his lethal look.

“You don’t need that kind of distraction,” she muttered to herself as he slid in behind the steering wheel.

Fastening her seat belt, she tried to ignore the scent of him, a pleasant fragrance that reminded her of sunshine and sandalwood. “You must have moved into the town houses right around the time Lainie did,” she said, determined to keep her focus on the matter at hand.

He started the engine with a roar and pulled out onto the street. “She moved in a couple of weeks before me and Maddie. The first night we were there she brought over a little basket of soaps she’d collected from hotel rooms over the years.” He smiled. “She said she didn’t have any fruit and refused to bake a cake, but wanted to welcome us and bring us something. Maddie still uses the soaps. She says they’re just her size.”

A new edge of grief crawled up in the back of Melody’s throat as she thought of her sister. “Lainie loved hotel soap and shampoo. When any of us stayed at a hotel, we always grabbed the freebies for her.”

They cruised slowly down Main Street and Melody looked at him curiously. “Where were you before coming here? You mentioned something about Texas?”

“Just south of Dallas. My grandfather was an Oklahoma oil man, and when he passed away he left me an embarrassingly large inheritance. I used it to buy a ranch. I raised cattle and horses.”

“What made you decide to leave it all and come back to Cotter Creek?”

In the illumination from the dashboard she saw his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. “My wife died.” The words fell flat, with no other information offered.

It was obviously a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thanks.”

They were silent for several minutes. So, he wasn’t a stranger to grief, she thought. She realized that’s what he’d meant earlier when he’d told her that his daughter had suffered enough loss in her life.

Her heart ached for Maddie, who had lost a mother so early in life. Melody knew what it was like to lose a parent. She’d lost her father when she’d been ten, and while Fred had stepped in as a father figure and support, it would never be the same as having her own dad in her life.

A new tension filled her as Hank turned off the main road and onto a gravel road that led to the Edge. Was she foolish to think that she could get information that Zack West couldn’t? Perhaps. All she knew was that she needed to try.

“Looks like a full house,” he said as the place came into view. A sprawling one-story building, it was weathered to a dark gray with neon signs in the windows that advertised a variety of beer.

Motorcycles were parked in a row by the front door and the parking lot was filled with pickups and cars. A group of men stood just outside the front door, their cowboy hats pulled low in tough-guy fashion.

Hank found an empty parking space and pulled in, then together they got out of the car. As they approached the door, Hank threw an arm across her shoulder in a proprietary fashion. She welcomed it, was glad that he was with her as the men eyed her up and down with drink-induced boldness.

Hank met their stares with a hint of challenge as he and Melody passed them to go inside. Anxiety twisted in her stomach as they entered the dim, noisy, smoky tavern.

Hank pointed to two empty stools at the bar and Melody quickly beelined for them. “Two beers,” Hank said to the bartender, a young man with tattooed arms and a pierced ear.

“Bottle or tap?”

“Bottle,” Melody said. She wasn’t sure she wanted to drink from any glass the place had to offer.

The bartender set the beer in front of them and Hank tossed a bill on the counter. “Is Harry in?” She had to yell to be heard above the sound of the band that was playing on a platform stage at the other end of the place.

The bartender glanced at his wristwatch and then shook his head. “He usually shows up around ten or so.”

“Can you let me know when he gets here?” she asked.

He nodded and moved down the bar to serve another customer. “Who’s Harry?” Hank asked. He leaned so close to her she felt his warm breath on the side of her neck. It danced a shiver of pleasure up her spine.

“Harry Pryor, the owner,” she replied. She picked up her beer, then swiveled her stool around to face the crowd. The dance floor was packed with two-stepping cowboys and women dressed to attract Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right at the Moment.

So many people, she thought. How was she ever going to find the ones who might have been close to Lainie? How could she even begin to try to figure out who might have answers that could lead to a killer?

She looked at Hank, who scanned the crowd with narrowed, calculating eyes. “See anyone you know?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was hoping to see either Dean or James here, but I don’t see either of them.”

“It’s early,” Melody replied. She turned back around and motioned to the bartender. When he approached them she offered him her brightest smile. “I was just wondering if you were friends with Lainie Thompson.”

He grabbed a wet sponge and swiped down the countertop. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Melody Thompson, Lainie’s sister.”

Immediately his expression changed as a smile exposed a chipped front tooth. “Everyone was Lainie’s friend. She used to talk about you a lot.” The smile fell. “I can’t believe what happened to her.”

“You know anyone who was angry with her? Somebody she was fighting with or who was giving her a hard time?” Melody asked.

His gaze shifted to Hank, then back to Melody. “Is he a cop?”

Hank shook his head. “Just a friend.”

“I already talked to the sheriff and told him I don’t know anyone who was upset with Lainie, unless maybe it was Harry. But Harry was always mad at Lainie. He’d fire her at closing then rehire her the next day. Look, I really don’t know anyone who’d want to hurt Lainie.” Once again he moved away from them as a customer hollered for him.

Hank leaned closer to Melody. “Anyone else you see that you want to question?”

Once again she gazed around the room and spied a waitress in black tights, a short skirt and a tight T-shirt that advertised the Edge. “The waitress over there. Her name is Kerry Butcher. She was one of Lainie’s friends.” She slid off the stool.

“Want me to come with you?” Hank asked.

“No, I’ll just see if I can grab her when she brings over her next drink order.” Besides, Melody suddenly needed a bit of distance from Hank Tyler. She was finding it difficult to focus on what she was there for with his evocative scent washing over her and his body warming hers.

She’d been cold ever since she’d been told about her sister’s murder, and she found Hank’s warmth far too appealing for comfort.

She wound her way through the crowd and touched Kerry’s arm. The big-breasted, wild-haired woman spun around to face her. Her caramel-colored eyes instantly took on the sheen of tears. “Melody! What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you about Lainie,” Melody replied.

Kerry frowned as somebody at a nearby table called her name. “I’ve got a break coming up in about ten minutes. Meet me in the back of the building.”

As Melody returned to the bar she couldn’t help but notice that Hank was the most attractive man in the place and was garnering plenty of admiring female glances.

Another place, another time, she might have considered following through on her initial attraction to him, but he was merely an emotional support while she navigated her way through her sister’s murder investigation. Nothing more.

By summer’s end she’d be back in Chicago living the life she’d begun there. There had only been two weeks left of school when she’d gotten the word about Lainie’s death and Mr. Cook, the principal at the school, had assured her the job would be waiting for her in the fall.

“Everything okay?” Hank asked as she rejoined him at the bar.

“I’m supposed to meet her behind the building in ten minutes when she takes her break.”

“Maybe she’ll be able to tell you something you can take to Zack.” He frowned. “I know it’s really none of my business, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be putting yourself out here like this, asking questions that could possibly stir somebody up in a very bad way.”

Melody lifted her bottle of beer to her lips and took a swallow, her mouth suddenly unaccountably dry as she felt an unexpected press of tears.

She set the bottle back down on the bar, then leaned closer to Hank. “I just need to do this,” she said. “You don’t have to help me, but I have to do this, with or without you.”

For a long moment his gaze held hers and the noise, the crowd and their entire surroundings fell away as she felt as if he were looking deep inside her and saw her need. He covered her hand with his and smiled. “Bodyguards in training don’t quit before the job is done.”

She smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

“And now, let’s head out back and see what your waitress friend has to tell us.”

It was almost midnight when Hank and Melody left the Edge with precious little information gained. As they got back into his car he could feel her depression weighing heavily on her.

Kerry hadn’t known who Lainie was seeing at the time of her death, although she did mention both Dean and James as men in Lainie’s recent past. Harry, the owner of the tavern, had also had little information to give them, except mentioning that Lainie had been talking about wanting to have a baby.

They’d spoken with him in his cramped office in the back of the building, and he’d told them that he didn’t remember any customers having problems with Lainie or her talking about having any kind of trouble with anyone else.

“I guess it was silly of me to think I’d just waltz right in and find out all the answers that Zack hasn’t been able to find,” she said, breaking the silence that had built between them. She released a weary sigh.

“Not silly, just a bit unrealistic,” he replied.

“I hope your mother isn’t upset that we stayed so late.”

“She’s keeping Maddie overnight so it’s not an issue.” He turned into the parking lot of the town houses, surprised to discover that he was sorry the night was about to end.

It had been a long time since anything or anyone had captured his interest. Certainly he was interested in seeing Lainie’s murderer brought to justice, but he had to confess that he was quickly becoming equally intrigued by Melody.

When he’d first arrived at Lainie’s place that evening, her appearance had punched him right in the gut. She’d looked hot in her tight jeans and turquoise blouse, and throughout the evening he’d hardly been able to keep his eyes off her.

He’d had one brief affair a year ago with a woman he’d known had no expectations of a happily-ever-after. He had a feeling that Melody Thompson wasn’t at all like that.

As they’d sat in the bar watching the crowd, the toetapping music had made him want to grab Melody in his arms and swing her out on the dance floor. He’d wanted to feel her body pressed against his, move in the rhythm that mimicked sex.

Rebecca had loved to dance. Almost every Friday night she’d asked Hank to go with her to the local honky-tonk for a night of dancing. Most Friday nights he’d declined. He’d been too tired, preferred spending his evenings alone with Rebecca and Maddie rather than in a bar with loud music and drinkers.

When Melody wasn’t asking questions about her sister, they’d talked, passing the time and getting to know each other better. She was easy to talk to, both intelligent and quick-witted.

He parked and they got out of the car. “You want to come in for a little while?” she asked when they reached her door. “I know it’s late but I’m a little wound up. I could make some coffee.”

He smiled. “Coffee is the last thing you need if you’re already wound up.” He could tell by the soft plea in her eyes that she didn’t want to be alone. “But, I would come in for a tall glass of water.”

She flashed him a grateful smile and unlocked her door. He followed her through the living room and into the kitchen where he sat at the table while she got out the glasses and ice.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said as she placed his glass of water in front of him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied as she sat in the chair opposite him. “I want Lainie’s murderer caught, too.”

Melody took a sip of her water, then stared out the window where the blackness of night was profound. “She hated the night,” she said softly. “She read a poem when she was younger. I don’t know who wrote it or where she found it, but it started out something like…‘When night falls and takes the day, that’s when evil comes out to play.’ I don’t remember the rest of it. She told me once that when night fell and she was alone, she feared she’d disappear. It was her biggest fear and it breaks my heart that it came true.”

Melody looked at him, her eyes filled with pain. “As silly as it sounds, I think it would have been easier if she’d been murdered during the day instead of at night when she was most frightened anyway.”

Her words broke his heart. Once again he had the desire to pull her into his arms and offer comfort, promise her that the pain would pass and life would go on. But how could he promise her that when he wasn’t at all sure it was the truth? It had been two years, and his pain was still as raw as it had been the night that Rebecca slipped from this world.

“Tell me about your life in Chicago,” he said, hoping the change of subject would take away the shadows from her eyes. “Lainie told me you’re a teacher.”

“Third grade. I love kids that age, around Maddie’s age.”

“You always wanted to be a teacher?”

“Not always.” She leaned back in the chair and for the first time since the evening had begun she looked relaxed. The tiny line of stress that had streaked across her forehead had disappeared and her mouth looked less tense. “For the first two years of college I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life.”

“You went to Maple Park College?” he asked, knowing the small school was a mere twenty minutes away.

She smiled. “I think almost everyone who lives in Cotter Creek attends Maple Park Community College at one time or another.” She took a sip of the water, then continued. “For a long time I thought my job in life was going to be taking care of Lainie. She never wanted me to be too far away from her.”

“But you moved to Chicago.”

She leaned forward, the line of stress once again creasing her forehead. “By the time I graduated and realized I wanted to teach, there were no jobs here in Cotter Creek. Actually, it was Lainie who initially encouraged me to take a job wherever I could get one. She was feeling particularly good at the time, strong and independent. So I got the offer from the school in Chicago and decided to take it. I was thrilled when I heard that Lainie had decided to move out of Mom’s home and into her own place. But I could tell by her phone calls that she wasn’t having an easy time without me.” She sighed, as if the long explanation had exhausted her.

“Lainie mentioned you didn’t date much. You have somebody special in Chicago?”

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