investigation.”
Ah, man. He didn’t need this. “No, someone else is trying to influence it.” And maybe already had. “Look, this is too complicated to get into over the phone—”
“Does it have anything to do with Lyla Pearson, the assistant director of the San Antonio CSU?”
That sent an uneasy feeling knifing through him. “It does. Why? Other than the fact that she didn’t get a real service call from the electric company, what do you know about her?”
“According to the criminal informant I just talked to, she’s in big trouble, Wyatt, and you should avoid her at all costs.”
“Too late.”
Declan cursed. “You’re with her?”
“Yeah. Now why don’t you tell me why that’s a bad idea?” Wyatt insisted.
“Because according to the informant, by going to her, you just signed her death warrant.”
Chapter Four
Death warrant.
Those two words kept going through her head, and each time, they robbed Lyla of her breath. Not that her breath was anywhere near steady yet, despite the several hours they’d spent at the sheriff’s office and hospital getting her checkup. All was well with the baby, thank goodness, but it might be a while before she could rein in this feeling of panic. Her racing heartbeat, too. And the adrenaline crash.
Yes, she had that going on, as well.
Despite the clean bill of health from her obstetrician, none of this stress could be good for the baby. But then, neither were those bullets.
It was the too-fresh memory of those bullets and those two words, death warrant, that had made Lyla get in the truck with Wyatt after they’d finished giving their statements to the deputy.
Now she was debating that decision to allow him to place her in his protective custody. She wasn’t thinking straight, but what she did know was that Wyatt seemed to want to keep her alive and safe. And he seemed capable of doing that.
Capable of wrecking her life, too.
But maybe once she got all of this sorted out, there’d be no need for protection. No need to dodge gunmen lurking on her ranch.
“You’re sure this criminal informant was telling the truth about the death threat?” she asked. “Because if he’s a criminal, how can you trust him?”
“He’s getting paid to spill his guts, and if what he spills is a lie, then the payments dry up.” He paused, mumbled some profanity. “Unfortunately, this guy’s reliable, and he said somebody’s got their eye on you.”
“But he didn’t know who.” It wasn’t a question. Lyla had already pressed Wyatt on that when he’d first told her about the threat. “Then how could the criminal informant know anything about the other details if he doesn’t even know the person’s identity?”
“Bad people talk. Sometimes too much, and this guy plays a fly on the wall so he can make money. He says someone’s going to force you to cooperate with altering evidence, and if it doesn’t work out, then you’ll be eliminated. Dead, ” he clarified.
Even if the informant had lied, she wasn’t immune to just the threat of it. Mercy, how had things gotten this far out of control?
“I should be in San Antonio P.D.’s protective custody,” she tossed out there. “Not yours.”
He spared her a glance with those intense blue eyes but kept his attention on the rural road that would take them to his family’s ranch.
Which she was certain wasn’t a good idea at all.
“Those guys took shots at me, and that makes this federal now.”
It was weird. Though he’d practically barked that at her, his voice was far from a bark. Everything that came out of Marshal McCabe’s mouth seemed smooth as silk. And genuine. Yes, he was a charmer, all right. Even when he was accusing her of assorted crimes.
Like stealing the embryo that belonged to him and his late wife.
“You can’t possibly want me at your family’s home,” she reminded him.
“I don’t. But I don’t want you dead, either. And right now, I’m your best shot at not being