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“Well, well. You’re Corrine Kimbal!” Jackson’s voice sounded incredulous. “That’s interesting. Why don’t you explain to me why a defense lawyer from Diego Sanchez’s dream team is meeting with a hired gun at four in the morning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a lawyer meeting with a client. That’s not against the law.” Then Corrine raised her voice. “Zane, do not say a word, do you understand? Do not say a word! We are exercising our right to remain silent. If you’re going to arrest me, Ranger Woodlow, then you’d better make sure you have your facts straight or I’ll bury you.”

“I heard you,” Jackson pressed. “I heard you conspiring with Zane Cartland to kill Nina.”

“You heard no such thing.” Nina had to admit, Corrine Kimbal was cool under pressure. “You were eavesdropping on an attorney-client, privileged conversation. You have no idea what we were discussing, and anything you did hear cannot be used against us.”

Corrine turned briefly to look at Nina. The older woman wore a black sweater and black jeans. Her dyed blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was beautiful, but there was a coldness to her eyes that made Nina shiver. The woman was as ruthless as a snake.

Nina pushed out of the wrecked SUV, standing on shaky legs. She’d never intentionally caused a car crash. Then again, there was a lot of things she’d never done before this trip.

Stepping closer, she tried to get a better look at the attorney. Getting a closer look at Corrine’s face had her abruptly remembering where she’d seen her before.

She was the woman her father was standing next to in the yearbook. Corrine was his date.

Not only that, but she’d seen this woman’s face on a social media page belonging to her half brother, Colin Tillman. She’d assumed the woman was his mother, as there was a family resemblance. But she hadn’t dug further into the woman’s background. Not realizing Corrine had kept her last name of Kimbal, Nina hadn’t made the connection between Corrine and her biological father.

But now she realized Colin was Douglas Tillman and Corrine Kimbal’s son. A child who was conceived just a few months after she was.

And she couldn’t help but wonder if Corrine had intended to kill Nina simply because she was her husband’s illegitimate daughter. Or was there another reason this woman had wanted her dead?

* * *

Lawyer or not, Jackson knew Corrine Kimbal was guilty as sin. He silently repeated the bits of conversation he’d overheard. There was no way that could be considered attorney-client privilege.

Could it?

That was something a judge would have to decide. In the meantime, he wasn’t letting this woman get away.

“Zane, if you’re smart you won’t keep that woman as your lawyer,” Creed drawled. “Trust me, she’ll throw you under the bus the first chance she gets.”

Jackson didn’t dare take his gaze off Corrine. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. “Corrine Kimbal, you’re under arrest. Place your hands on your head. Nina, call 911 to get the local police here.”

Corrine flinched at his words, but then continued to expound on her innocence. “I’ve done nothing wrong. What is the basis for this arrest? A meeting with a client? Please, that’s not against the law.”

If he hadn’t seen her in action during the preliminary court hearings he might have been intimidated. But this woman lied as easily as she changed her shoes. The way she’d defended Diego Sanchez, calling him an innocent man set up by the border control agents and the Texas Rangers, had made him sick.

“Put your hands on your head!” he repeated sharply.

Corrine glared at him, then reluctantly complied. She gave him a condescending look. “I’ll have your badge for this.” Her tone was haughty. “Arresting a prominent defense attorney without probable cause will not be viewed positively by the judge. This arrest will be tossed out at the arraignment hearing.”

Jackson did his best to ignore her threats, although he hadn’t considered she was Zane Cartland’s lawyer. That did complicate things. The only bright side was that the arraignment hearing wouldn’t be until Monday morning.

As if sharing his concern about the woman being Zane’s attorney, Creed continued talking to the younger man.

“Last chance, Zane,” Creed said. “You need to look out for yourself. That woman is a viper.”

“Not a word, Zane,” Corrine shot back. “This arrest is bogus. They have nothing on us. You hear me? Nothing!”

“What’s this?” Creed’s voice feigned surprise. “A gun. Hey, Jackson, what are the chances this gun will match the bullets we recovered from the crime scene?”

Jackson had to smile when Corrine’s expression faltered. Creed was being deliberately vague about which crime scene, not a difficult thing to do as there had been so many. Based on Zane’s arrival here, Jackson suspected he’d for sure been at the rental property. He wasn’t positive the same guy had been at Mark’s cabin, or the Sunset Motel. Hopefully the officers and crime scene techs who’d been combing the rental property had recovered slugs from the shooting.

“I’m sure they’re a dead match,” Jackson drawled, giving his support to Creed’s story. “And that places Zane Cartland at the scene of an attempted homicide. That’s a much bigger deal than a measly drug trafficking charge from five years ago, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely. A minimum of ten years jail time, easy. Maybe longer.” Creed had to raise his voice to be heard above the wailing sirens. Jackson wondered how many officers the Temple PD had on duty during the overnight shift. There had been at least four officers at the rental property.

Now this. Jackson doubted the residents in this upscale neighborhood had ever watched one of their own being arrested.