Liver Let Die (20 page)

Hell had become an ice-skating rink in the last two years.

“I didn’t come all this way just to talk to you,” he said, obviously soothing his injured ego. “I have a one o’clock interview with Derrick Young, the quarterback . . .”

“I know who he is, Brett. This is my neck of the woods, remember?”

“Last I heard, you were writing personals, Jordan. I figured you were out of touch with the local sports.” Brett touched her upper arm, massaging the soft flesh with his fingertip. “I talked to my boss, and he mentioned there might be a position available for you on his team. Of course, it would only be entry level—for a while—but it would definitely be a step up from this place.”

Ouch!
If he’d intended to knock her down a few notches with that remark, it had worked. No way did she have a comeback after that.

Alex moved to her side in a few strides. “You must really be good at your job, Brett, if you’ve been sent way out here to interview someone at a no-name school like Grayson County College.”

Brett recoiled, and Jordan realized Alex’s barb had hit a little too close to home. When she and Brett had arrived in Dallas, he was hailed as the heir apparent to Jason Wimberley, NBC’s hottest sports anchor. Apparently, he’d fallen out of someone’s good graces as Alex had implied. She wondered if it had anything to do with little Suzie Sunshine, his weather girl. As curious as Jordan was, she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of thinking she cared enough to ask.

“The kid’s the topic of the day on all the sports talk shows in Dallas,” Brett said defensively. “They’re even discussing his sudden decline this past season on a few national programs.”

At the mention of Derrick again, Jordan’s interest was piqued, and she decided finding out if Brett could shed some light on the quarterback was worth indulging him. “What do you mean decline?” For whatever reason, some men responded better if they thought they were dealing with a dumb female. Brett was one of those guys.

She’d play that role if she had to.

“Ever since the team’s big loss at the Division II championship last year, it seems like his head isn’t in the game.” The grin had returned to his face as he was suddenly center stage.

Hiding the smile of victory for knowing him so well, Jordan plunged ahead. “Did you know he signed with Grayson County because of some scandal back home in San Antonio?” She was fishing, but if he thought she knew more than she really did, maybe he’d blurt out something she could use as leverage the next time she faced Derrick.

She glanced Alex’s way to find him staring at her, his eyebrows meeting in a perfect V at the top of his nose.

“That’s what I heard,” Brett responded. “It’s one of the things I plan to ask him about.”

“I’ve been told he has anger management issues.” Jordan stopped short of adding,
And he just might be a killer
. As mad as she still was at Brett for dumping her, she couldn’t let him go into the interview without knowing he might not leave in one piece if he said something Derrick didn’t like.

Alex eyed her suspiciously. “How do you know so much about him?”

“Michael told me,” she lied, before turning back to Brett. “He’s my landlord and Grayson County College is his alma mater. Since he’s privy to insider information, he found out the only reason the team was lucky enough to nail Derrick down with a letter of intent on signing day was because none of the bigger schools would touch him.” She’d pulled that lie out of nowhere and now waited for the surprise to show up on Brett’s face.

“That’s because something happened two months before he graduated,” Brett fired back.

“What?” Jordan gasped, unable to hide her shock. She knew the kid had a problem with anger and wondered if that something that happened with Derrick had anything to do with his short fuse.

“It was hush-hush,” Brett continued. “Even my boss hasn’t been able to find out the details.”

There was little doubt in Jordan’s mind Derrick had killed J. T. and even less that his anger was the reason he had been scratched from the recruit lists of most of the bigger universities.

“So, Jordan, will you at least consider what we talked about on the phone?” Brett moved closer, his voice barely a whisper now.

“You speak English, Wilson? The lady said she’s moved on.” Alex stood beside Brett, legs apart, hands on hips in the all-too-familiar testosterone-challenge stance.

If growing up with brothers had taught her anything about men, it was recognizing the warning signs that fists were about to fly. She edged her body between the two of them and gently pushed Alex back. “Give us a few minutes, please. I’ll walk Brett to the door.”

Alex released a long sigh, his eyes darting back and forth between Jordan and Brett. Finally, he reached for the dish towel draped over his shoulder and turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll finish up in here.”

Jordan peeked up at the clock. “You’ve got just enough time to grab a quick home-cooked lunch at Myrtle’s Diner on Main Street, Brett.”

“What about—”

She put her fingers to his lips. “Sometimes things work out the way they’re supposed to.” She nudged him toward the door before lifting up on tiptoes to brush her lips across his cheek. “Take care of yourself, Brett, and be careful with Derrick.”

As if he finally grasped that she’d made up her mind, he nodded. “You know where to find me if you ever need anything.” Without another word, he turned and left.

Jordan stood facing the door for several seconds after he was gone. Although she was sad, she knew she’d done the right thing by letting him go. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms and go back to what they’d had.

But it wouldn’t have lasted. The troubling signs had been there even before they’d graduated, but she’d chosen to ignore them. They were different people now. When she’d first wandered into Ranchero with no friends, no family to support her, and no one to cuddle up with at night, she’d thought she would be miserable.

But she wasn’t. She loved the small town, loved her new friends who were so different from any others she’d had. For the first time, she understood the meaning of unconditional love, knowing these people had her back no matter what. Although her dreams of writing a sports column would never die, she’d even begun to like her new job.

Yes, Ranchero had turned out to be a blessing.

“Thought you could use one of these.”

She turned and smiled as Alex handed her an éclair and a fresh cup of coffee.

“I was saving them for a rainy day,” he joked, grinning like a teenager who’d just heard the most popular girl in school say yes to his invitation to the homecoming dance. “Looks like today might be wet.”

So, he’d been eavesdropping.

Jordan reached for the pastry, her eyes never leaving his. She hadn’t quite figured him out yet, but there was no way she’d turn down chocolate. “Why’d you say you were the new guy I’m seeing?”

He laughed. “Your old boyfriend looked like the kind who would be hard to convince. What’s your story with him, anyway?”

It was her turn to laugh. If she didn’t know better, she might have interpreted his facial expression as jealousy. “College sweetheart,” she started. “Things didn’t work out after we moved to Dallas together.”

“Is that how you ended up in Ranchero?”

She was surprised that talking about it no longer upset her like it used to. “Yes. Now enough with all the questions. I need sugar.” She settled on the couch, careful not to spill the coffee.

Alex reached for the remote and clicked on the TV, settling in the chair opposite her. “I’ve been invited to play a round of golf this afternoon in McKinley. Mind if I check to see if rain is still in the forecast?” He flipped through the channels, searching the four Dallas stations to see if anybody was talking about the weather.

“Stop!” she shouted. “Go back to that last one.”

With a question in his eyes, he clicked back as a man’s photo flashed on the screen.

“Oh no!” she said in a half whisper as she leaned forward on the couch. “That’s him.”

“Who?”

She focused on the picture to be absolutely sure she wasn’t mistaken. “Ducky.”

Alex got up from the chair and plopped down on the couch beside her. “Who’s Ducky?”

“Shh,” she admonished. “I want to hear.” After grabbing the remote out of his hand, she turned up the volume just as the camera switched to the reporter.

“Joseph Parker, an Oklahoma City businessman, was found dead this morning in a remote area of Rochester Ranch, fifteen miles east of Ranchero near Lake Texoma, by a group of men in a helicopter. According to the coroner, Parker had been dead for several days, his body ravaged by what looks to be feral hogs. Police say he was shot at close range and apparently dumped in the area, well known to hunters across the state. Positive identification was made by his sister, who was unable to offer any clues about the murder. Local police will work with officers from Oklahoma City, where the man is being investigated on an unrelated assault charge.”

Jordan stared at the close-up of Joseph Parker, her mind racing. Although she’d only spoken to him a few minutes the first night she visited Longhorn Prime Rib, there was something about seeing his picture that nagged at her. She racked her brain but came up empty.

“How do you know this man, Jordan?”

“I talked to him about foie gras the night I reviewed the restaurant. He was angry with the bartender about something and—” Her hand flew to her mouth.

“What?” Alex moved closer.

“The eyes! How could I forget them?” She turned away from the screen to face Alex. “He’s the man who was hiding in the shadows the night you brought me home from the karaoke bar.”

The minute Alex slid into the front seat, he reached for his phone.

“Ranchero Police Department,” a cheery voice answered.

“Sheriff Delaney, please.”

“He’s in a meeting. Can I have him call you back?”

Dammit!
Alex needed information now. He blew out a frustrated breath, knowing there was nothing more he could do but wait. “No, I’ll call later. What time do you expect him to be available?”

“Hard to tell. He’s with the mayor.”

I’m sure he is!

Alex thanked her and hung up, then started the car. In the past three weeks Ranchero had seen two murders. That number equaled the total from the last fifteen years combined if you counted the restaurant co-owner several months before. Add that to the homicide ten years ago when an old rancher shot and killed his neighbor over a property line dispute and that was pretty much it.

He’d done his homework before coming to Ranchero. The good country folks in this small town were probably more than a little spooked about the killings right in their own backyard and no doubt had deluged the mayor’s office with frantic calls. Alex imagined that was the reason Delaney was locked in a room with the mayor right now, probably debating whether it was time to call in the big dogs.

That would definitely complicate his life.

He pulled away from the curb, glancing one last time at the window to the left of the building’s entrance.

Jordan’s window.

He smiled, remembering the way she’d scarfed down the breakfast casserole. For someone who liked to eat as much as she did, she seemed totally out of her comfort zone in the kitchen. He wondered how she managed to pull off the gig as a culinary expert before he remembered how good she was at deceiving people.

Him in particular.

If what he suspected was true, why had Joseph Parker hidden under the stairwell that night when they’d come home from the bar? Was he looking to get rid of her, and if so, why? Had she double-crossed him?

As he turned into the lot at his own apartment building, he realized he’d have to wait on those answers but hopefully not for long. If results weren’t forthcoming, he’d be pulled from the assignment. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He still hadn’t figured out exactly what game Jordan McAllister was playing, but if his hunch was right, she just might get that sexy little caboose of hers in a heap of trouble—or worse.

Something about that woman made him gravitate toward her like a bear to a honeycomb. He needed more time to investigate those feelings even though the probability of things not ending well loomed high.

When it was all said and done, he suspected Jordan McAllister would not come away unscathed.

CHAPTER 16

“Hello.”

This was the third time today Jordan had picked up the phone and heard heavy breathing. “Okay, the joke’s over. When I hang up, I’m calling the police. Not only do I have your number, but I also have your picture flashing across my computer, you little creep. Call up one of your idiot buddies and bother them.”

She clicked the phone off, hoping the kid bought the lie about the computer image. She wasn’t even sure it was possible, but unless he was computer-savvy, he wouldn’t know, either.

Sheesh! It would be just my luck to get a heavy breather in geek’s clothing.

She slumped on the couch and grabbed another slice of the pizza she’d picked up at Guido’s on the way home. Saturday nights you got a large three-topping thick crust with a liter of soda for under seven bucks. As much as she loved pizza when it was hot, eating it right out of the refrigerator was her all-time favorite. This under-seven-dollar investment would feed her all weekend.