Читать книгу The Sheriff Gets His Lady - Dani Sinclair - Страница 11
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
THE SUN WASN’T even up when Sky finished dressing, checked her watch, and decided she had time to send her assistant a quick e-mail before she hit the road. The computer case still sat on the desk where the bellman had set it the night before. Spinning it around to open it, she stopped, her heart pounding loud enough to be audible.
“This isn’t my case!”
While similar, the case was too light and had some sort of fancy lock on the front. Anger and panic warred within her even as she reached for her briefcase to check on her files. The machine’s files weren’t irreplaceable, the ones in her briefcase were. She breathed again when she found everything where it should be. Then she reached for the telephone.
“I suspect this is a simple mix-up,” the hotel security man told her a short time later. “There’s no identification on the outside, but this is an expensive lock. Someone is going to want this case back.”
“Can’t you open it?”
“No, ma’am. Not with this lock on it.”
“Mr. Ellenshaw, I need my computer. Can’t you break the lock and find out who this case belongs to?”
The earnest young man shook his head. “Sorry, Ms. Diamond, I can’t do that. Believe me, whoever got your computer is going to be as upset as you are over this mistake.”
“I doubt it.”
Especially if that person was from a rival designer’s house. This wouldn’t be the first time another designer had gone to extreme lengths to steal an upcoming series of designs. Sky had been a recent target so she knew firsthand. There was big money in the world of fashion. Theft happened more often than people realized. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
“I’m certain we’ll hear from the owner this morning,” he assured her earnestly.
“That’s all very well, but my car is being delivered in fifteen minutes. I have to leave. What am I supposed to do?”
“As soon as your computer is located we’ll have it delivered to you. In the meantime, I have some forms for you to fill out.”
“Of course you do.”
Arguing was pointless. If the competition had her computer, they already had everything on it. Recriminations were useless. She could only hope Mr. Ellenshaw was correct, that in all the confusion yesterday, the bags had been switched by mistake.
“And if no one does complain about having the wrong computer?” she asked as she finished filling out the requisite paperwork to get her laptop computer returned in the event they recovered it.
“Er, then you’ll have to file a claim through the insurance company.”
“Naturally. And what happens to this one?”
“Oh, we’ll hold on to it. It’s possible a guest who checked out might not discover the switch for several days.” At her raised eyebrows he hastened to add, “But I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue here, Ms. Diamond.”
The door flew open. A young woman in a security uniform stood there, a peculiar expression on her face. “Ray, I need to talk to you right away.”
“I’ll be with you in a min—”
“Now! This won’t wait!”
“Excuse me a moment, Ms. Diamond.”
He walked to the door and stepped into the corridor with the agitated woman. The door didn’t close all the way and the woman’s frantically whispered words floated into the room.
“One of the maids just found a maintenance worker downstairs in an empty room. He’s dead. She says his throat was slit. There’s blood all over the place.”
The security man uttered an oath. “Follow procedure. I’ll be right there.”
Sky wasn’t surprised when she was hustled to the front desk. A bellman was summoned to collect her bags and bring them downstairs. By the time she finished filling out the paperwork for the car that was delivered, a surprising number of uniformed police officers were trooping through the lobby. At 5:33 a.m. it seemed highly unlikely the early risers were going to believe the police were here for a conference.
Not her problem. Sky tipped the deliveryman and walked outside, her briefcase firmly under her arm. This time she checked each piece of luggage carefully as it was being loaded into the trunk of the luxury car. Two men she’d bet were plainclothes policemen strode past the unfazed doorman.
“All set, ma’am. Come back and see us.”
Not if she could help it. In her opinion, the Grand’s reputation was highly overrated.
Only after she was inside the car with the engine running did she shrug off the morning’s frustration and allow anticipation to hum through her body. There was nothing she could do about the computer right now. The loss couldn’t override her main reason for being here in Texas.
Somewhere down the road her daughter was waiting, even if the girl wasn’t aware of that fact. In her mind, Sky had held countless conversations with the faceless young woman. She’d rehearsed all sorts of opening gambits. Yet she still didn’t know what she was going to say when the time finally came. More and more she wondered if she was doing the right thing at all. She had no rights here. But even if she didn’t tell her daughter who she was, Sky needed to see her, maybe watch her and hear her speak. It was that simple and that complicated.
She opened her map, took a quick look at the printed directions she’d made for herself, and set out into the early-morning traffic.
Finally, after all these years, maybe—just maybe—she could convince herself that she’d done the right thing after all.
* * *
DINNER WAS nearly ready. His daughter would be home from work soon, Noah thought in satisfaction. Having Lauren around always brought the tiny ranch to life. The place was going to feel so empty once she moved away for good. Lauren had a way of comfortably filling even the silences with her good-natured presence. It had been bad enough this past year and a half with her away at school most of the time, but at least there had been vacations and semester breaks to look forward to. Soon it would be periodic visits instead.
Letting go might be part of the parenting process, but he didn’t have to like it.
The telephone rang, pulling Noah from his introspection. He rinsed his hands and reached for the instrument.
“Hello?”
“Noah? Zach Logan.”
The name from his past raised his eyebrows. Zach Logan had been his boss when he worked for the Dallas Police Department fifteen years ago. He hadn’t seen the man since last April when one of Zach’s cases had reached into this part of Texas and Noah lost a deputy.
“Hey, Zach, what’s new?” Noah cupped the phone under his chin and finished drying his hands on the dish towel as he checked the water boiling on the stove.
“I called to give you a heads-up.”
Noah turned down the heat as he slid the pasta into the boiling water. “On Francis Hartman?”
“You heard they released him?”
“I dropped a prisoner off last week. The warden told me.”
“Then do you know Hartman disappeared from view yesterday?”
Noah’s muscles tensed then relaxed. “Francis Hartman is a brainless thug.”
“Who apparently carries a mean grudge.”
Noah swore.
“Yeah. While I agree he doesn’t have the brains God gave rodent dung, it’s a good idea to watch your back all the same. The brainless ones are often more dangerous than we expect.”
“Point taken. Thanks for the warning, Zach. I’ll alert my people. Any wants or warrants?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, I’m not overly worried. Hartman will stand out if he makes the mistake of showing up here in Darwin Crossing. I think he’s just barely smart enough to recognize that.”
“Good point. You aren’t exactly a bustling metropolis out there, are you?”
“We like it that way.”
“Uh-huh. Guess that means coming back to work for me again is out of the question, huh?”
For one tiny second, Noah hesitated before rejecting the offer. Once Lauren was happily married, his initial reason for leaving Dallas was gone. He’d loved the undercover work he’d done for the Dallas P.D. On the other hand, he was older now. Old enough to know it was a young man’s game.
“Thanks anyhow, Zach.”
“Just remember, the offer stands anytime you want. How’s your daughter doing? I hear she’s engaged.”
Noah smiled. “She picked herself a nice guy. He’s about to graduate from veterinary school.”
“Isn’t that what Lauren is studying?”
“Yeah. She intends to go into partnership with him. They’ve already talked to the vet over in Trueblood about buying into his practice in a couple of years. He’s getting ready to retire.”
“That’s terrific. So Lauren’s away at school right now?”
“No, actually, she’s doing this semester via some new computer courses. She’s determined to save money before the wedding and this lets her work part-time as a veterinary assistant for our vet here in Bitterwater.”
“Independent as ever, huh?”
Noah’s grin widened. “That’s Lauren.”
“Still bringing home strays?”
“Afraid so.” He eyed the three dogs and one battered old cat sprawled on the kitchen floor. Each one had been a rescue that had ended up costing him a fortune in vet bills. Lauren was always bringing home strays of one sort or another. Long ago, he’d accepted the defeat of that particular battle.
Zach chuckled. “Glad to hear she’s doing so well. Just to be on the safe side, you should probably warn her to be careful. Listen, Noah, there was another reason I called.”
“Figured as much.”
“Could I use your office to set up a meeting? We’ve got an undercover operation that I don’t want to see compromised. I figure you’re far enough from anywhere that we can make sure no one sees the meet.”
Noah ran a knuckle across his jaw, remembering what had happened the last time he’d gotten involved in one of Zach’s operations. His deputy had been a year from retirement when a pair of thugs from a baby ring ran him down. It hadn’t been Zach’s fault, but Noah still felt the loss.
“I guess I can arrange that.”
“Good. I’ll let you know the particulars as soon as I do.”
“All right.” The dogs suddenly scrambled to their feet and dashed down the hall. Lauren was home. “I’ve gotta run before I burn dinner, but thanks for the call. It was good to talk with you again.”
Joyous barks greeted the arrival of his daughter. Noah smiled in satisfaction as he hung up. He grabbed the salad from the refrigerator and set it on the table, then he pulled out the colander. The clicking of paws preceded his daughter into the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad! Dinner smells great. I’m starving.”
The animals collapsed in a boneless pile inside the door, watching Lauren with canine adoration as she gave him a quick hug and headed for the stove to check on the garlic bread he had warming.
“Yum.”
“Go wash up. Dinner in five.”
When Lauren returned from the bathroom, they fell into their usual dinnertime routine. The dogs waited hopefully for something to fall in their direction, but were quickly distracted by their own food bowls so he and Lauren could eat in peace. The cat disappeared with a haughty flick of her tail. As he ate, Noah listened to Lauren describe her day with her usual cheerful enthusiasm.
“Oh, and Doug’s coming to spend this weekend if that’s okay, Dad.”
“Anytime.” He swallowed a mouthful of pasta and regarded his daughter. “He’s not going to drive, is he?”
“No. He’s flying into San Antonio and renting a car.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “Pretty expensive for a weekend.”
“I know, but he can afford it. And he says I’m worth it.”
He shared her grin. “He’s right. Listen, there’s something we need to discuss. You know that snub-nosed .38 I gave you?”
Her eyes went from blue to gray as she studied him seriously. “Uh-huh.”
“Start carrying it for a while.”
“Uh-oh. What’s happened?”
His daughter never failed to amaze him. He thanked God every day for the miracle of Lauren. If only Beth had lived to see what a strong, beautiful, levelheaded woman they had raised. He took a bite of salad, chewed, swallowed past the lump in his throat and proceeded to explain about Francis Hartman.
“Okay, Dad, I’ll stay alert.”
“The odds of Hartman actually coming here are pretty small,” he assured her. “If he holds to his usual routine, he’ll be back in jail in a matter of days.”
For Noah and Lauren the following day was life as normal with some heightened caution and awareness. In the afternoon, Noah spent several frustrating hours trying to track down an oil leak in his truck before he gave up and drove into town. He groaned at the sight of Alma Underwood pumping gas into her sports utility, but there was no avoiding the woman unless he drove all the way over to Bitterwater. He brought his truck to a halt and looked around for Marvin Gates. Old Man Lacy had the hapless mechanic cornered inside the garage, garrulously complaining about something under the hood of his ancient pickup.
“Noah! I was just heading home to give you a call,” Alma said. “You have to do something.”
Too late to hide, he thought ruefully, and strode over to Alma. “Afternoon, Alma. What do I have to do something about? I’m not even on duty right now.”
She finished filling her gas tank and began screwing the cap back in place while Noah rested a foot against her front fender.
“Ha! You’re the county sheriff, you’re always on duty. Besides, you know young Terry’s still wet behind the ears. This woman would chew him into little pieces.”
The idea of anyone chewing his six-foot-three inch, 220-pound muscled deputy into little pieces made Noah smile. Terry Gooding might be young and inexperienced, but he wasn’t stupid or Noah wouldn’t have hired him.
“What woman, Alma?”
“The one over in my café. She’s been hanging around Darwin Crossing for two days now. She doesn’t belong here.” Alma’s seamed face creased even further.
“Where does she belong, Alma?” Over her shoulder, Noah saw that rescue wasn’t imminent. Marvin was still busy.
The older woman sniffed. “City woman. Now, I ask you, what business could she possibly have here in Darwin Crossing? As the sheriff, you should talk to her. Find out what she’s up to.”
He tried to keep amusement out of his voice as he tipped back the brim of his Stetson and tilted his head.
“You mean you haven’t pumped her for information already?” There was no better source of information in town than Alma Underwood. The woman lived for gossip.
“Humph. Not that one. You can’t pump her with a twelve-gauge. She’s real cool-like. Cuts you dead with a look. Good-lookin’ broad, I’ll give her that, but only if you like the snooty type. She comes into my place and just sits there watching.”
“Sitting’s not illegal, Alma. Neither is watching. And you do own the only café in town.”
The older woman scowled. “She doesn’t come there to eat. She orders perfectly good food and then sits there playing with it while she looks out the window or scribbles away on this pad she carries.”
Alma took her food seriously. Noah kept his grin inside and glanced over at his pickup to be sure it wasn’t blocking anyone. Marvin was still occupied.
“I guess city women are picky eaters, but I’m afraid that isn’t illegal, either.”
Alma set her jaw and eyed him from beneath thick round glasses. “Okay, I didn’t want to say this right out, Noah, but if you’re gonna take that attitude, now I will. She seems to be watchin’ your Lauren.”
“What?”
Amusement vanished at the mention of his daughter’s name. Noah came away from the fender of her SUV. Tension took a two-fisted grip on the base of his stomach.
For an instant, he thought about Francis Hartman, then discarded the idea of a connection. But a much older fear reared its ugly head.
“Thought that might get your attention.”
Beth had laughed at him, told him his worry was foolish. But while she was a cop’s wife, she didn’t see and hear all the things he did. From the day they adopted Lauren, he’d always secretly feared that one day Lauren’s birth mother would come and try to take their little girl away.
“Are you sure about this, Alma?”
“Course I’m sure.”
Who would be watching his daughter?
“A woman,” he said almost to himself. The adoption had been perfectly legal and nearly twenty years ago. Still, Beth’s death had strengthened the fear. What if Lauren’s biological parents learned that Beth was dead? What if they decided they’d made a terrible mistake? He’d never understood how anyone could give up a precious baby like Lauren in the first place. His fear had not abated after Beth’s funeral. It had even played a small role in his moving out here in the middle of nowhere after he found himself a widower. Strangers were always noticed here in Darwin Crossing.
“Course she’s a woman, didn’t I say as much?”
“Who is she?” he demanded.
“That’s what you need to find out,” Alma said, sounding exasperated. “The woman has a file in that briefcase she carries around and your Lauren’s name is scrawled on the face of it.”
The tension building inside him coiled itself into a tight knot.
Alma bobbed her head as if she knew the impact her words were having. “If someone is checking on your daughter, maybe it’s time to make sitting and watching illegal here in Darwin Crossing.”
“Where is this woman now?”
“In my café,” Alma said with satisfaction.
Noah battled his spreading tension.
“You know, it occurred to me to wonder if that high-society boyfriend of your daughter’s might have gone and hired himself a fancy private investigator to keep an eye on his fiancée,” she added.
Alma’s suggestion stopped him cold, changing the direction of Noah’s thoughts. Douglas Rossiter came from a wealthy background. In fact, the Rossiter family was well-known amid the Dallas elite. While Doug didn’t strike him as the jealous type, it was barely possible that he was having some sort of check run on Lauren. Lauren had just returned from a visit with the Rossiter family, relating amusing tales about their lifestyle, which was so different from her own. Did they think she hadn’t fit in?
“You can’t trust them society people,” Alma insisted. “They’re always lookin’ down on hardworking folk like us. I told you it was a bad idea to let your Lauren marry outside her class.”
Noah brushed that aside, but he couldn’t dismiss the assumption that this new stranger was a private investigator. It was within the realm of possibility that someone in the Rossiter family was checking on Lauren. That made more sense than a relative suddenly trying to make contact after all these years.
The investigator would find absolutely nothing, of course, but the idea of the whole thing made Noah angry. If this woman started probing around in Lauren’s background, she could stir her unknown birth mother into taking some sort of action. After all, Lauren was marrying into a wealthy family.
“I called Terry,” Alma continued, “but he says he can’t do anything unless she breaks the law.”
True enough. “I’ll go over and have a talk with the woman.”
Alma’s eyes lit victoriously.
“You do that,” she called to his retreating back. “That woman’s up to no good.”
Noah waved to Marvin as he left his truck where he’d parked it and started down the street. The mechanic could look for the oil leak later. Noah strolled toward the café with deceptive speed. The stranger’s sleek silver luxury car was parked out in front, looking mildly intimidated by the much larger vehicles that surrounded it. A rental out of San Antonio, Noah noted.
His stomach tightened another notch as he realized where he’d seen the car before. Yesterday, it had been parked in Bitterwater not far from the vet’s office where Lauren was working.
Noah hadn’t paid the car any attention when he’d driven past, other than to note how out of place it looked. He hadn’t seen anyone inside and assumed the driver was with the vet. Now the tension inside him began to unfurl. Thank God for Alma’s warning.
While he doubted a private investigator would spring for an expensive luxury car to drive around in, one never knew. As soon as he was close enough, he made a mental note of the plate number. Then he walked up beside the car and peered inside.
“May I help you with something?”
Her sultry voice did a slow crawl up his spine. He lifted his head and drank in the view of the woman standing behind him. She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. There was no mistaking her for a resident even if he hadn’t known everyone by name in a hundred-mile radius. The woman looked more out of place than her car. Five-seven, he’d estimate, slender, but not without some nicely placed curves. Grace Kelly came to mind with those cheekbones and that glowing skin. The woman’s hair was cut to her chin in a style that looked expensively chic, yet artfully simple. The style suited her.
“Just looking,” he told her as he adjusted the brim of his hat and watched in puzzlement as her body seemed to tighten in recognition. He’d swear she was a total stranger, yet her body language said otherwise.
The shaft of unexpected and unwanted desire caught him unprepared. He wondered if she felt the pull of this sudden chemistry, as well. Dressed in a navy pantsuit that fit as if it had been designed just for her, she managed to look completely feminine, yet at the same time conveyed a sense of professionalism. His gaze was drawn to the V of her open-necked, white silk shirt, which stopped just short of the nicely rounded curves of her breasts.
“Like it?” she asked coolly.
Her voice was soft velvet wrapped around spikes of steel. The voice made him think of other soft things he’d like to wrap around steel. Uncomfortably embarrassed to be caught staring, he tried for a smile. “What’s not to like?”
Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I meant the car.”
He tipped his head to one side and let his smile widen. “So did I.”
For a moment, she seemed disconcerted, but her cool mask quickly settled back into place. No wonder Alma didn’t like her. Few women would. And most men would feel intimidated—the ones who didn’t see her as prey. He had to rein in a pretty strong predatory feeling of his own. The woman was class, yet she gave off an aura of sensuality that reached inside him and grabbed him where he lived. And all with no effort on her part.
Behind the dark lenses of her glasses, he sensed her assessing his faded work jeans, matching jacket, boots and plaid shirt. Fingering the brim of his hat, Noah figured he failed her fashion test hands-down. He’d spent the past few hours under the hood of his truck. Fashion hadn’t come into his choice of clothing, and it didn’t worry him now.
“We don’t see many cars like this one around here,” he said.
Her head inclined toward the line of pickup trucks dwarfing the car. “I’ve noticed.”
“We don’t see many strangers in town, either,” he said, inviting her to share her reasons for being here.
“Don’t tell me you’re the welcoming committee.”
Strands of soft blond hair shimmered in the sunlight as she tossed her head. He found himself watching with interest as each lock fell smoothly back into place as though well trained.
“Nope, but I admit I’m curious. There isn’t much to lure visitors to Darwin Crossing.”
“You might be surprised.” Her words seemed to startle her. She started forward briskly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
He blocked her by the simple expedient of turning around directly into her path. She bumped his shoulder and jumped back as if scalded.
“Is there a problem here, Sheriff?”
As a law enforcement official, he’d met this sort of defensiveness before. Lots of people didn’t like cops for all sorts of reasons. Problem was, she shouldn’t know his occupation. He wasn’t wearing his uniform.
“Now, how could you know I’m the sheriff?”
He watched with interest as the color faded from her cheeks. He fought down an urge to remove those dark sunglasses so he could see the eyes beneath. What color would they be? And what would they reveal?
“I saw you in uniform the other day.”
The keen anticipation that had been building inside him shut down instantly at those words. He hadn’t been in uniform since he picked Lauren up at the airport a couple of days ago. At least a full day before Alma said the stranger had come to town. He leaned back against the door to her car. “Is that right? Which day would that be, exactly?”
“I’m not... Does it matter?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Why?”
“Alma tells me you’ve been hanging around the past couple of days.”
“Alma being...?”
“The woman who runs the café.”
“Ah. That Alma.”
She’d regained her composure, and this time her look was designed to reduce a man to the level of cow manure.
“So what seems to be the problem, Sheriff? Tips not generous enough?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He came off the car and closed the distance between them, deliberately using his body to intimidate her. “But I would like to know why you’re here in town and how you know who I am,” he said with deceptive softness.
He was unaccountably pleased that she held her ground. This was not a woman who would be easily intimidated. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored sunglasses. He had a feeling he’d be seeing sparks flashing if he could see her eyes.
If she was a private investigator for the Rossiters, they were obviously hiring unusual new talent. No surprise there. They had plenty of money.
Noah put her age somewhere near thirty. Up close, her skin was flawless, her makeup so carefully applied as to appear nonexistent. And as the breeze shifted direction, the air carried a subtle hint of fragrance—something delicately feminine. Soft. Unobtrusive. Almost elusively compelling.
Just like the woman herself.
He found himself relaxing despite his instincts to the contrary. He didn’t want to like her, even if he admired her spunk. And he sure didn’t want to be attracted to her, yet it was hard to prevent. Noah chided himself for being mildly distracted by the rise and fall of her chest. She’d gone back to looking unruffled, but he could almost hear her thoughts whirling.
“If you must know, Sheriff, I’m here sketching.”
He’d give her points for originality, but she’d lose on the delivery. He didn’t have to see her eyes to know they’d be shifting away on that answer.
“Not much scenery here in town,” he said mildly.
“You’d be surprised.”
Her tone was dry, but her meaning unmistakable. He was the scenery she was talking about.
He knew women found him attractive. His daughter had once come home after a dance to gleefully inform him that he was considered the catch of the county. Now that same sense of embarrassment crawled over his skin at her deliberate stare.
She lifted her chin and her expression became serious. “I’m not sketching scenery, Sheriff,” she said. “I’m a clothing designer. I came here to soak up some atmosphere for a new winter line.”
Noah didn’t have to ponder that one. “This is February.”
Sky found herself on the verge of smiling. She caught herself in the nick of time. This strangely compelling attraction she felt was dangerous. The sheriff was the sort of man a woman spun fantasies about, the kind of man they put on billboards to convince men—and the women in their lives—that some product could make them look like him.
It was a delicious fantasy. He was a delicious fantasy.
Too bad he was her daughter’s adoptive father.
