Larger Than Life Alison Kent (read out loud books .TXT) 📖

She placed her palm over his hand on her lap, stroked him, rubbed him. "No. I do. I think," she said, and gave him a tender grin.

"It's hard to explain, Mick. You're here, and I love that you are. But I've always known I'd be the one to bear the brunt of our discovery. No matter what you can do, that's one thing you can't change. This is my crime to pay for. My failure to live with."

About that much, she was right. If he'd gotten here sooner, been here longer, had a body in better working condition and a mind not on the fritz . . . yeah.

He was doing a lot of good here, wasn't he? A bloody fucking lot of useless good. Jaw taut, he dropped his gaze to the ground, then looked off into the distance, the view marred by Holden Wagner leaning against the grill of his car looking rumpled and smug.

Mick indicated the other man with a lift of his chin. "There's got to be more of a story with him."

"Holden? He's tried repeatedly the last year to get inside. It's been like an obsession with him. My house. The barn."

Mick looked over. "Your bed?"

She shook her head, caught his gaze briefly before glancing toward Wagner. "I don't think so. Our relationship has been either reserved or antagonistic. There has definitely never been any heat. In fact, this bizarre plan of his to marry Liberty makes no sense. He's the most asexual man I've ever met." Lips compressed, she shrugged. "A shame considering his looks."

That last comment was one Mick preferred to ignore. "So he's not marrying her for sex."

"From the gossip I've heard, he's not involved in Pastor Straight's church except in a legal capacity." She collapsed back against the seat, exhaling her frustration. "I don't see him buying his salvation with numerous wives."

"Then he's buying something else." Mick shifted his weight to his other leg, his nape tingling. "Like a ticket out of town."

"Or out of trouble." Neva's eyes narrowed. "What could a seventeen-year-old girl like Liberty Mitchell possibly offer a man like Holden Wagner?"

Mick turned to study the other man. "Or what could she be holding over his head? You've told me about him, but what exactly do you know about her}"

She didn't have a chance to answer. At the sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel drive, she looked beyond Mick's shoulder. He pushed to his feet, stifling a groan as he did. Neva climbed out of the backseat of the car, crossing her arms as Sheriff Munroe came toward them.

Hands at his hips, his calculated gaze taking in more of Mick than of Neva and paying no attention to Wagner at all, the lawman cocked his head to the side and spoke. " We're going to take a look at the barn now. You can walk down with us, but you'll both have to wait outside. Or you can stay here. It's your choice."

"I'd just as soon be there," Neva said, lacing her fingers through Mick's when he offered.

Munroe hesitated as if he had more he wanted to say, then turned away with nothing but a nod. He and his deputies started up their cars and drove the short distance to the barn. Holden slid behind the wheel of his own vehicle and followed. Still holding Mick's hand, Neva started forward on foot, tucking herself behind his arm.

They hadn't gone but ten steps when she said, "According to Liberty, her family's lived in Earnestine less than a year. Her parents moved there for their children's souls, or so she claims they say. She hates it and wants more than anything to go back to California. She was dating Jase Bremmer, and you know the rest. So I don't know much at all."

Mick's ears pricked. Rabbit's digging had produced intel connecting Wagner to California. His parents had been missionaries and had died there. It was a stretch, but Mick had worked stranger and iffier connections all the way to the ground. He'd work this one, too. But first he had something pressing he needed to do.

The conditions were finally right. He had time, space, and no hovering goons in the way. He pulled his hand from Neva's, reached into his pocket for the transmitter Rabbit had delivered earlier from K.J.

"Hang back a second," he said, and she slowed her steps. "Don't look at me. Keep looking down the road."

"Okay." She even brought up a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the midday sun. "Are you going to tell me what you're doing?"

"Later," he said, palming the transmitter, extending the antennae with his index finger and thumb. He kept walking, kept his chin and head up, kept watching as the other men parked and bailed out of their cars.

Only his eyes cut down to his hand. The transmitter's red light blinked steadily. Mick put his thumb to the button and pushed. The blinking stopped. The red light glowed, darkened, then started pulsing again.

That done, he whistled for his dog. FM looked up, lumbered out of the field where he'd been sniffing every inch of ground, and trotted out to meet them on the road. Mick ruffled the fur of the mutt's back with one hand, used the other to slip the transmitter into one of the slits in the leather collar, then started walking again.

At his side, Neva reached for his arm and held on. "Now are you going to tell me what you were doing? And what that business with the dog was all about?"

"No can do."

She jerked at him lightly. "Why not?"

He covered her fingers where they gripped him. "There are some tricks of the trade mule deer hunters like to keep to themselves."

Fifteen

They reached the barn in time to see the sheriff and one of his deputies disappear through the side door into the studio. The second deputy, having finished his search of the showroom, walked out a few minutes