Page 13 of Armed ’N’ Ready

Probably nothing. And probably wouldn’t change his similarly humorless personality, either.

“Did you know you’re the sole beneficiary of Joe Myer’s estate?” Cox raised both brows.

“What?” Her mouth fell open.

He handed her the document, and she quickly read the section to which he referred. I, Joseph A. Myer, bequeath 100% of my estate to Andromeda Hardt. The will was dated only a month ago.

“I don’t understand any of this,” she whispered, more to herself than to the men seated around her. For Joe to do this without telling her…something was very, very wrong.

They were friends now, but nothing more. Why would he give me everything if he died? He had family—a mother, father, two sisters and a brother. What was going on with him that he’d drawn up a will only a month ago? The presence of state troopers and federal agents in his house did, in fact, give her a major clue.

She shut her eyes as reality slammed her in the face all over again. Whatever was going on, Joe was in deep, deep trouble, and he’d dragged her into his mess.

An ominous silence pervaded the room, and she opened her eyes to find everyone staring at her, waiting for her to say something. “I wasn’t aware he’d designated me his beneficiary. I swear I had no knowledge of this.” Why she felt she had to swear to it, she didn’t know. Then again, she could understand their perspective.

A person didn’t normally make someone his sole beneficiary unless there was a close personal relationship. If nothing else, Joe’s will made her look guilty of lying. Again, begging the question as to whether or not she should seek legal representation before answering more questions.

“Do you know where Joe is?” she asked Cox, thinking they might be lying to her for some reason. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had lied to her. The FBI agent seemed to be in charge, but the way Cox repeatedly deferred to Houston left her with the certainty that the state trooper was a major player in this investigation.

Cox shook his head. “We don’t, and we’re concerned for his safety. He booked a flight from Logan to Vegas but never boarded the plane. That’s pretty odd behavior, don’t you think?”

With everyone eyeing her suspiciously, she suddenly made the connection between Joe being missing and his will. “You think I knew about the will and killed him to inherit his estate? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stood, clenching her hands.

A growl came from beneath the table, and the black shepherd leaped to its feet. She uttered a shriek and stepped back, nearly tripping over the chair. Sgt. Houston grabbed her upper arms, tugging her against his chest until she’d regained her balance. She automatically reached for him, her fingers closing over the hardest, thickest biceps she’d ever felt.

“Platz,” he said, and the dog immediately backed off and lay down.

Her heart beat faster, partly because the K-9 was so intimidating and partly from the shock of being pressed up against Sgt. Houston so intimately from her head to her toes.

“You all right?” he asked. “Saxon won’t hurt you.”

The dog still lay on the floor, his head tilted so that he could watch Houston. The intensity of those gold canine eyes was alarming, although she understood dogs well enough to know this one was only trying to protect what it perceived as an imminent threat to its master.

“I’m fine.” She lifted her gaze to find Houston watching her with undisguised suspicion. “Except for the fact that you actually think I could have murdered Joe. I love him as a friend. I don’t ever want to see him hurt.”

He released her abruptly. The tightness of his mouth and the frigid animosity in his eyes obliterated any images she’d been trying to conjure up of how a smile might transform all those hard planes and angles. She’d been wrong. No way would this man ever smile, let alone exhibit even the tiniest morsel of warmth toward another human being.

“I didn’t say that,” he answered in a flat tone.

She rested her fists at her hips, still glaring at him. “Then why are you concerned for his safety?”

“Because”—he crossed his arms—“there’s a bounty on his head, and no one knows where he is. When someone in the illegal gun business disappears, they tend to show up only when someone finds their body.”

…

For some reason Nick couldn’t pinpoint, the image of Andi stuck behind bars didn’t sit well with him.

Not your problem.

Fear and worry spread across her features as she absorbed his words, and he was hit with the irrational urge to comfort her—a suspect.

What the hell?

Needing space, he reached for Saxon’s leash. His dog leaped to his feet, ready to go to work again. “Back in five,” he said to Cox, then headed for the kitchen, taking his first breath in the last ten minutes that wasn’t mingled with the distracting scent of Andi’s shampoo or whatever was making her smell like that flower in the boutonniere he’d worn at his sister’s wedding.

He began opening cupboards, searching for a plastic bowl for Saxon, when a female voice came from behind him.

“Looking for a water bowl?”