Page 67 of Lone Star Country Protector
Within a matter of minutes, they were racing down a staircase before hitting the side exit. An older gentleman scooted over to the passenger seat before exiting the truck with the engine left running.
“Shiloh Nash has worked the ranch since long before I was a twinkle in my parents’ eyes. Grandpa Lor hired him at fifteen, and he’s been there ever since,” Dalton explained as Blakely crouched low in the seat. “Folks say all he needs to do is put his hands on a horse to hear its thoughts.”
Despite his age, the man looked strong. He still had a full head of white hair.
“Sounds like he has a gift,” she said, checking the side mirror to see if anyone was paying attention to them or if a vehicle was following them. So far, so good. Did she dare hope they would make it to Galveston?
“He’s quite the character too,” Dalton supplied. It was nice to talk about something so normal for a change.
“I wish we could stay here so you could have more time with your grandparents,” she said.
Dalton tightened his grip on the steering wheel and kept his eyes on the patch of road in front of them. “They have Jules. Grandpa Lor is awake. Now we just need miracle number two.”
Blakely could use one of those miracles about now.
* * *
The drive toGalveston was quiet. They only made a lunch stop, eating fast food in the truck while parked across the street from the taco place. Apartment 4D of The Waterfront luxury apartments afforded a view of the Gulf of Mexico that Dalton might have appreciated more if he was on vacation. As it was, he checked the one-bedroom along with the perimeter with a wary eye. Once he deemed it safe, he joined Blakely inside, where she was rummaging around in the fridge.
“I meant to ask more about your relationship with the professor,” he said to her.
“What relationship?” she asked.
“He shows up in your courtroom. Keeps track of your schedule. Surely you don’t think it’s for professional reasons only.”
“He has a reputation for liking busty blondes, which I am not,” she said, a little too quickly to dismiss his concerns. The guy did exhibit a stalker quality. “I admit he’s made me uncomfortable on a couple of occasions, but I choose not to read too much into our interactions.” She pulled out ingredients to make sandwiches. “I can also admit that seeing him in my courtroom yesterday was uncomfortable. Though, it wasn’t the first time he’s brought students.” She closed the fridge door. “Do you see him as a threat?”
“I don’t like his fixation on you,” he admitted. “Has he ever made an advance?”
“I’ve been very clear where I stand with the professor,” she said as she assembled dinner. Didn’t mean the professor was on board or that he didn’t resent her for refusing him. Would he resent her enough to come for her?
Dalton sent a message to Jules to see if she could pull up any dirt on the professor, like sexual harassment claims by current or former students. Any indications of escalation of stalking behavior.
He received an immediate response that Jules was on it.
After a quiet dinner, Blakely excused herself to take a shower. Dalton sat at the table and stared out the window. Now that Johnny Spear had been eliminated as a possibility, they were back to square one. The professor bugged Dalton. The man’s actions raised red flags. Did it mean he was a murderer? Was he trying to scare Blakely? Get her to run to him in some twisted scenario in the man’s mind?
Would he hire someone to hurt her? Abduct her?
It didn’t add up.
Blakely’s cell buzzed. Dalton resisted the temptation to check the screen. She would be out of the shower in a few minutes and could see for herself.
The darn thing barely stopped buzzing before kicking off a new round. An emergency?
He got to his feet and moved to the counter to check the screen. If he was going to read the messages, he needed her facial ID.
Since this seemed important, he picked up the phone and took it to the bathroom with him. Standing in the hallway, he knocked on the door as the cell went off again. “Sorry to interrupt, but your cell isn’t letting up. Someone must want to get a hold of you desperately.”
The water turned off.
A few seconds later, the door cracked enough for him to slip her phone through.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s my sister,” Blakely said. “She wants me to pick her up. Says she is being discharged first thing in the morning but doesn’t want to go home and doesn’t want anyone to realize she left the hospital in the middle of the night.”
A minute later, she emerged from the bathroom dressed and still dripping wet.
