Lone Star Legacy (9 page)

But small or not, anything by the name of Viper had to present some risk to tiny fingers and toes.

“Hang on, honey, until we see what this is.” She looked at Walt. “Are you sure this dog will be imposing enough?”

He leaned down and unlatched the door. “Take a look.”

A pointy black nose appeared.

Thick, short black fur.

Beady little eyes.

Then ears similar to a fox…or a bat. A bristly black lion’s ruff of a mane, then a short, compact body without a tail. It couldn’t possibly weigh more than eight or nine pounds.

Disappointment washed through her. “Wh-what is it?”

“A Schipperke.”

“But it’s…it’s
small.
”

“She
thinks
she weighs a good sixty pounds. This dog will settle the score on any dog that gets in her way—it absolutely terrorized Loraine’s two Australian shepherds.”

She couldn’t conceal her doubt. “I’m not sure—”

Walt chuckled. “With this thick, black coat, she’s practically invisible in the dark, unless she bares her teeth. She took down a burglar, once. Nailed him in the ankles, barked enough to raise the dead, and had him cornered and trembling ’til the cops arrived.”

“So she’s mean.”

“These dogs are very protective of their homes and family. They bark up a storm if there’s a threat, and believe me, any intruder would think twice about risking that kind of notice.” He picked up the dog and cuddled her against his chest. “She was raised around Kenny’s grandkids, so she should be fine with Sophie. You should probably keep her in the backyard when the café is open, though, in case she assumes your customers are trying to break in.”

That didn’t sound good, but Walt had been right about the cat….

“Then I guess we could give this a try,” Beth said faintly. She put Sophie down, and reached out to stroke the top of the dog’s head. Viper’s long, pink tongue swooped out to lick her hand. “You’re sure she’ll be good with us? Predictable?”

He chuckled fondly as he placed the dog in Beth’s arms. “Give her a day or so to make herself at home, and I’ll guarantee it. I promise you, she’ll protect this place with her life.”

J
OEL PULLED TO A HALT
in the alley behind Beth’s house and jogged to the backyard gate.

He’d barely touched the latch when something small and black burst off the porch and flew down the walk like a supersonic bowling ball—barking loud enough to alert the entire county. It threw itself against the gate, needle sharp teeth snapping as it jumped higher and higher, apparently trying to gain enough altitude to make it over the gate and take him out.

His ears ringing, he took a step back and looked up to find Beth out on the porch, hands on her hips. She shook her head in apparent amazement, then placed two fingers at her lips and whistled sharply. “C’mon, Viper. It’s okay.”

The dog backed off growling, its eyes riveted on Joel’s. Daring him, in no uncertain terms, to make the next move.

But when Beth whistled again, it turned and trotted up the walk to sit in front of her.

“I still don’t think I’m coming in,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “What is that thing, anyway?”

Beth picked up the doglet and rubbed it behind the ears. “A gift from your uncle. I think it works.”

He drew close to Beth and offered his open palm to the dog. It looked up at him, seemed to judge him a friend, then licked his hand. “What about Sophie?”

“I’ve been watching them really close, but they seem fine together.” She put the dog down and watched as it bounded back into the yard to bark at a squirrel. “Darwin’s another story. He took one look at Viper, jumped from the top of the refrigerator and gave her a glare that could’ve melted steel. Now and then he comes down to parade in front of her nose, just to let her know who’s boss.”

Beth wore a soft pink top that barely skimmed the waist of her matching shorts, and her long, strawberry blond hair was loose and curly today. From all appearances, someone might guess she was Sophie’s high school babysitter…too fresh and innocent to ever be involved in anything illegal.

He caught her delicate scent—like sweet, lush peaches, this time—on a soft breeze.

And just like that, his steely resolution to confront her started melting fast as ice under the hot Texas sun.

Since the night of the dance he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the intense emotions he’d felt, just holding her in his arms. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but it had been as natural as breathing to lower his mouth to hers.

Just the moonlight, he’d told himself.

The intimacy of holding a woman close.

Any
woman, after such a long time alone.

But that brief, innocent kiss had totally blown him away. In an instant, the music and the moonlight and the crowd pressing against them had faded. His focus had narrowed down to Beth’s warmth. Her softness. Her sweet, inviting mouth, and the way she’d responded.

She tempted him more than anyone had since the bitter end of his marriage, but he hadn’t been a cop for nearly fifteen years for nothing.

He was going to find out what her secrets were…so he could help her, in case danger arrived at her door.

A
SHIVER OF UNEASE SWEPT
through Beth at the intense expression in Joel’s dark eyes.

From the moment they’d met, he’d seemed a little too interested in her past. He’d made her feel edgy, uncertain. They’d settled into a comfortable working relationship—friendship, even—marred only by that sensual, slow dance from heaven, and an incredible kiss that she’d tried to forget.

But now, she could see his doubts about her were back a hundredfold.

She fixed a bright, breezy smile on her face. “If you’re concerned about the upstairs appliances, they won’t be coming until the fifth of June. I can have Sears do those installations. I’m just thankful for all you’ve done with the café. My food supplier will be making the first delivery tomorrow, and I can open on Wednesday, just as planned. I even have the—”

“Beth.”

She turned away, unable to meet his eyes any longer, and bent to hunt for dead blooms on the geraniums by the steps. “Um…do I owe you more money? If I do, I’ll settle up on Friday. Unless you need it now? I can—”

“I don’t want your money. I just want some answers.”

She snapped off a dead bloom. Then two more, and tossed them out in the yard. “Answers?”

“Beth, look at me.”

He drew closer, and she caught the woodsy, faint fragrance of his aftershave. The clean scent of Dial soap. She reached for another faded flower, but instead of it breaking off, the entire stem tore away.

“You can trust me,” he added quietly.

She shot a quick glance at him, then picked at the petals of the blossom in her hand. “We’re doing great, thanks to you. The café is ready to open, and the apartment is almost done, too. You’ve done beautiful work.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He rested his hands on her shoulders, which sent a shiver through her of an entirely different kind. One totally out of place, especially now.

If he knew, others in Lone Wolf could find out, too, and what might those past accusations do to the future of the café and her job at the clinic? Her ability to provide for Sophie, and to make a new life for them both in Montana? Her financial status was already on rocky ground.

Joel felt the tension in her shoulders, and saw the rigid set of her jaw. Maybe she was in even more trouble than he’d guessed.

“You told me about the threatening phone calls.” He turned her around to face him and gently lifted her chin. “The whole town knows about the graffiti incident, and how some jerk trashed your yard. But that’s not the whole story, is it?”

She bit her lower lip. Her eyes darkened as she met his gaze and then looked away.

“When the phone rang at the café, I saw how scared you were. You were afraid the caller was someone else, yet you said you had no idea who it could be.”

“I don’t. Not for sure, anyway.”

“Any reason why someone would target you?”

When she didn’t answer, he withdrew the copies of the
Tribune
articles from his back pocket and handed them to her. “I’d guess this is a pretty good clue.”

She skimmed the first one, then read it all again more slowly. But instead of fear or guilt, he could only detect anger flashing in her eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“Walt told me you were asking for a—a—” He looked down at the strange creature at her feet. “Whatever that is, for protection. He was concerned about you, and wanted me to look into the situation. Since I still have friends back in the Detroit PD, I asked one of them to do some checking. If someone was threatening you, I figured it was better to know. Logical?”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you investigated me.”

“Steve checked your legal history, and you came up fine, actually. Not even a traffic ticket in the past ten years. But he did find these newspaper articles about your husband’s death, and the investigation that followed.”

She shoved the papers back into his hands. “The auditors at his company said several hundred thousand dollars were missing, and they decided he did it. It sure was convenient, blaming a dead man who couldn’t defend himself.”

He paused, giving her a chance to collect herself. “Did they question you about all of this?”

“Of course they did,” she said bitterly. “They figured I must’ve helped him hide the money in a safe place, so therefore I could help them get it back.” She glared at Joel and backed away. “But if that were true, I sure wouldn’t be struggling to make ends meet, would I? I knew our house was mortgaged to the roof. But just before he died, Patrick emptied our bank accounts and maxed our credit cards on cash advances. I didn’t know any of that until after his death.”

“The cops probably assumed you two were filtering it all into some offshore account so you could flee the country.”

“Exactly. Pat called home from work on the day of the accident. Said he had a surprise weekend for the three of us, so I should pack quickly and be ready. But far as I knew, I was not getting ready to
run.
”

She turned on her heel to go back in the house, but Joel gently caught her arm. “Wait.”

“To be tried and convicted by you? The authorities found no proof. I was never charged.” Her voice rose, laced with the pain of betrayal and humiliation. “If anything, they probably thought I was pathetically stupid for not knowing what was going on.”

The dog took an aggressive stance at Joel’s feet, a low, threatening growl rumbling in its throat.

“Tell your dog,” he said quietly, “to settle down. We need to talk, not get all upset.”

“Upset?” Her eyes flashed fire. “How do you think I should feel when someone assumes the worst?”

“Believe me, I just want to help.” He led her over to the porch swing and sat down next to her.

The dog followed and glared up at him, clearly eager to take things to the next level.

“I can just imagine.” The rigidity of her spine seemed to fade, and now he saw only defeat in her eyes. “You know what will happen, now? Rumors will snowball. How can I possibly try to start a business here once that happens?”

“I don’t intend to start any rumors, but word will probably get out sometime, and then you can calmly deal with it just as you did now. With the truth.” He took one of her hands in his to offer comfort. Her hand was trembling and cold, and the desire to protect her welled in his chest. “But in the meantime, you’ve got bigger problems—and you need some answers.”

“Tell me about it.”

“The money situation and the car accident have to be related.” He fought the urge to reach out and tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s all too coincidental, otherwise.”

She nodded.

“What if there
was
an embezzlement scheme? Maybe Patrick found out about it, and threatened to go to the police. Or maybe he was involved against his will. Someone could’ve trapped him into cooperating, or got their hooks into him when he was weak. Maybe he wanted out, and the others were afraid he’d squeal.”

She bowed her head. “The police asked me if he was suicidal, knowing he’d be caught and sent to prison. Maybe our marriage had problems, but I’ll never believe that he’d kill himself and try to take Sophie and me with him.”

“Did they find any evidence of tampering on your car?”

“None—though how they could tell, I don’t know. I saw it at the junkyard after I got out of the hospital. The front left quadrant was crumpled like aluminum foil, and the rest of the car nearly unrecognizable.”

“Any evidence of another car at the scene?”

“No.” She looked away, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “The report said there were no foreign paint marks, chips or unexplained damage. It claimed that Patrick suddenly, inexplicably veered off the highway. Our car went airborne over an embankment, then rocketed into a concrete bridge abutment.”

“Maybe someone veered in front of you. The lack of physical evidence doesn’t prove anything, does it?”

“To the police, it did.” Her voice trailed away. “They said there would’ve been skid marks. Evidence that he’d slammed on the brakes, and steered wildly to avoid impact. But still, there are Sophie’s nightmares….”

“Maybe she saw something and just doesn’t remember. Lots of people blank out during an accident.”

“I sure did, and I regret it every day,” Beth retorted bitterly. She reached into her back pocket and handed Joel a folded envelope. “And the authorities aren’t done with me yet. They still believe I have the loot stashed away in some secret hideaway.”

He opened the letter and scanned the contents. “They want another statement?”

“Probably because they hope to trip me up and prove me a liar.” She fidgeted with the wedding ring on her right hand. “And what else can I tell them but the truth—again?”

“Did Patrick ever seem unusually tense or distracted, or mention any unexpected investments?”

“During the months before he died, he was more distant. He got defensive when I asked him what was wrong. But I suspected an affair, not this.” A sad smile tipped up a corner of her mouth. “An affair would have been so much better. Now, it’s not only the authorities who doubt me. Someone else is sure I have the money or know how to find it. And he could be anyone—someone at the company. A partner in crime. Or just some random person who has heard about it. And someday, his threats may actually be real.”

A
FTER AWAKENING AT THREE
on Wednesday morning to bake her brioche, croissants and other assorted pastries, Beth changed aprons and flipped on the café lights. At seven o’clock she turned the front window sign to Open for the very first time.

At seven-fifteen she started pacing. Adjusting a picture frame here. The angle of a decorative teapot there.

At seven-thirty, she heard Sophie call her name, and she hurried upstairs for the morning ritual of hugs and kisses, then quickly dressed her and brought her down to the café for breakfast.

Two red-faced young cowboys—early twenties at the most—stood just inside the front door, their hats held at their sides, their booted feet shuffling awkwardly.

They both looked as if they were about to bolt.

“Hi, guys, ready for breakfast?” Beth crossed the room to grab menus from an antique fern pedestal just inside the door.

They glanced at each other, both taking a wary step back at her approach. The taller one swallowed hard and nodded.

She smiled, suddenly realizing why they were here. “Ahhhh. You wouldn’t be related to Gina Carlton, would you?”

The short one ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am. She’s our aunt. I’m Charley, and this here is Jake.”

Sophie came up beside her. “Are they
cowboys,
Momma?”

“Sure looks like it.” Beth ruffled the crown of Sophie’s head, then led the two men to a table by the front window, their boots clomping hollowly across the oak floor. She handed them each a menu. “Coffee, for starters?”

They both seemed entranced by the breakfast menu, and it took a moment for one of them to nod.

She brought them each a cup and left the small pot, then settled Sophie at a table in the back corner with her usual Cheerios, milk and juice, adding a sliced strawberry garnish to the cereal.

The two cowboys were still studying the menu when she returned. Jake was talking furtively on his cell phone. “All set?”

They each shot a guilty look at her, then looked back at the menu.

“Can I help you decide? The pastries are all fresh baked. The brioche are still warm, in fact. Do you like omelets? The three-cheese with asparagus and dill is a good choice. Or,” she added when Charley flinched, “there’s the bacon and cheddar.”

“I’ll take that,” Jake said quickly.

Charlie nodded. “Me, too.”

“With the brioche, or a croissant?”

“That first one.” They spoke nearly in unison.

She suppressed the sudden urge to give them both a hug, then glanced around the café as she headed to the kitchen.

Surely it didn’t seem too feminine and intimidating…did it? The blue gingham was cheery and bright. Countrified, if anything. The white vertical blinds weren’t the least bit fussy. The collection of chintz teapots was a pretty touch over on the hutch she’d painted white as a display piece—

The teapots had to go, if these first two customers were any clue. Maybe even her collection of antique coffee tins. Crumpled cowboy boots, a dusty old saddle and some rifles probably would have been a better decorating scheme.

She sighed as she donned a pair of disposable gloves and got to work on the omelets. Every few minutes she peeked out at Sophie, who was making little life rafts of her remaining Cheerios.

“They’re gone,” she announced solemnly when Beth backed through the swinging café doors to the kitchen with a steaming, fragrant plate in each hand.

“You can certainly have more,” Beth said. “Just wait a sec—”

But then she followed Sophie’s gaze to the table at the front of the café and her heart fell. A much-folded ten-dollar bill lay by each coffee cup, but the coffee had barely been touched, and the chairs were empty.

“Well, Poppin,” she said on a long sigh as she put the plates down on Sophie’s table. “How about having a second course?”

T
HE MORNING DRAGGED ON
,
AND ON
.

Two elderly ladies came for a cup of tea.

The pharmacist strolled in at ten for coffee and a croissant to go.

She’d decided to open for just breakfast and lunch, and see how things went, but after a deserted house throughout the noon hour, she started counting the minutes until one-thirty. Maybe this whole idea had been one huge, expensive mistake. What had she been
thinking?

And then the bells tinkled madly over the front door, and she came out of the kitchen to find Walt and Joel standing by a table, and four rugged-looking ranchers hovering just inside the door.

The smile Joel flashed at her warmed her clear to her toes.

But before she could say anything to him, Gina walked in the door, her mouth a grim line and her two chastened nephews in tow. It appeared that at least half of these customers were here under duress, but if they were satisfied, maybe the word would spread.