Читать книгу Point Blank Protector - Joanna Wayne - Страница 7

Chapter Two

“I really am okay,” Kali said, when Zach joined her on the porch.

“I believe you, but since I’m here you might as well invite me in.”

“The house isn’t exactly ready for guests.”

“That’s okay, as long as you don’t expect me to grab a mop.”

“I make no promises, but if you’re not afraid of dirt and bugs, come on in.”

The front door opened directly into a large dark-paneled room with a brick fireplace. The heavy oak tables, two brown tweed sofas and a couple of rocking chairs were covered in a thick layer of Texas dust and a substance Zach guessed to be fingerprint powder.

The windows were so streaked with grime that the bright rays of late-morning sunshine could barely fight their way through. Worse, every nook and cranny sported a filigreed network of spiderwebs.

“I see what you mean,” he said. “No offense but the place looks like a haunted house at an amusement park.”

Only this time the dead body had been real. And Kali had walked in on the scene late at night and in the middle of a thunderstorm. He’d have expected her to be speeding down the Interstate by now heading back to wherever it was she’d come from. Instead she was swatting at a wasp that had just dive-bombed her.

Zach picked up one of the stained towels she’d obviously been using for cleaning and slammed it and the wasp against the wall. When the struggling insect fell to the floor, he squashed it under the toe of his boot. “Save you from having to waste a shotgun shell on him,” he teased.

“Not funny.”

She was right, he decided as he eyed the bloodstain on the floor. “Your arrival last night must have been a shocker.”

“To say the least.”

“Yet you came back out here today. That takes guts.”

“I don’t have a choice. I quit my job in Atlanta and sold everything I owned except my Jeep and the belongings I could stuff into it so that I’d have funds to get the Silver Spurs up and running again.”

“Surely you’re not planning to do that by yourself?”

Her eyebrows arched. “You think I can’t because I’m a woman?”

A loaded question that called for an evasive answer. “I just wondered if… I wondered if you were married.” A blatant lie, but better than getting her riled.

“I’m not married, but I’m not some helpless Southern belle, either. I’m used to taking care of myself.”

In town, maybe, but out here? He had his doubts. “Ranching is a competitive business these days. If you’re set on trying it, I’d suggest you hire someone who knows cattle. My brothers Bart and Matt might have some recommendations for a foreman. You should check with them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but my first priority will be making the house livable. I was pleasantly surprised when the sheriff gave me permission to return to the ranch today.”

“Ed Guerra might talk like an unsophisticated cowboy sheriff, but he knows his stuff.”

“I guess. It’s just that…”

Her words ran out and vulnerability seeped into the depths of her caramel-colored eyes. Zach shifted his weight to the other foot and hoped she didn’t go all emotional on him.

“The body was right there,” Kali said, pointing to the bloodstain near the front door. “It was as if the killer had just dragged her inside to shoot her.”

Or that she was trying to escape and he stopped her. “Did you hear shots?”

“If I had, I would have thought it was thunder. The storm had turned violent at that point.”

“Were there any signs that the killer and victim might have been camping out in the house?”

“The sheriff asked that same question, but I really don’t think anyone had been staying here. There was no food in the cabinets and no sheets on the beds. And the electricity had been off until I had it turned on last week.”

“What about the water from the faucet? Was it clear or did it have that rusty look from sitting in the pipes too long?”

“I’m not sure. The sheriff rushed me out before I had a chance to try it.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, Zach, but I really don’t want to talk about the murder anymore today. I’ve already gone over every detail with the sheriff.”

Reluctantly, Zach changed the subject. He walked to the window and looked out at the high grass and the overgrown weeds. “You could use a bush hog.”

“I’m not planning to raise any kind of hogs.”

“You don’t raise a bush hog. It’s a rotary cutter that can take care of the low brush, weeds and grass in no time. I’m sure your grandfather had one. It’s likely in the metal storage building, but you’ll need someone to operate it for you.”

“I’ll check it out once I get the house and stables in order. I’m hoping to bring in the first horses by the end of the month and be open for business by the first of April.”

“Business?”

“Right. The Silver Spurs Riding Stables and Horseman Training Center. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Is that because your grandfather raised a few horses?”

“No, it’s because it’s what I choose to do.”

She turned her back on him, picked up a broom that had been leaning against the hearth and started knocking spiderwebs from the ceiling. Her hair fell down her back, the multiple layers of auburn locks swishing back and forth with the motion of her body. Even her hair was different from the wild red tangles he remembered. It was a gorgeous auburn color now and smelled of spring flowers.

None of which meant she knew a thing about horses. “What qualifies you to teach horsemanship?”

“I’ve taught at a private stable just outside Atlanta for the past four years.” Her tone registered her irritation with his question.

“Teaching at some fancy city stable is a lot different than running a ranch operation.”

She set the broom back on the floor, but held on to it. “I appreciate your coming by to check on me, Zach, but I really don’t have time for your negativism and I do have to get back to work. Let yourself out, will you?”

Before he could reply, she walked away and left him standing in the middle of the den floor. He had a feeling her irritation had as much to do with the situation as with him, though he could have been a bit more tactful.

He started to leave, then remembered the rest of the reason he’d been sent to visit Kali. He wandered to the back of the house and found her in the kitchen pouring liquid detergent into a large bucket.

“Mom asked me to invite you to dinner tonight,” he said.

She dipped a rag into the soap mixture, then wrung it dry. “Tell your mother I appreciate the invitation, but that I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I plan to go to bed early tonight.”

“I’ll tell her, but she doesn’t give up that easily. If you don’t go to dinner, she’ll likely bring dinner to you.”

Kali straightened and turned to face him, her enticing breasts pushing against the fabric of her hot-pink T-shirt. “Was it your mother’s idea for you to come over and check on me, Zach?”

“Actually it was the sheriff’s idea. He thought you might still be upset over finding the body last night.”

“Of course I’m upset. Any sane person would be, but I’m not going to fall apart if that’s what you think.”

“I don’t, but…”

“But what?”

But now that he was thinking about it again, it didn’t seem safe for her to stay here alone. “You might sleep better if you stay at our place tonight. There’s plenty of room.”

“Was that the sheriff’s idea, too?”

“No, that one was all mine.”

“Thanks,” she said, sounding as if she meant it. “But the sheriff says he’s going to have a deputy keep an eye on my place tonight. And I have the shotgun. Besides, I have to stay alone sooner or later. If you fall off a horse, you get right back on.”

“We’re not talking horses.”

“It’s the same principle. I’ll be okay, Zach. Tell your mother I’ll take her up on the dinner invitation soon. And she doesn’t need to worry about me starving tonight. I stopped at Thompson’s Grocery this morning and stocked up on food.”

“Sounds as if you’re all set.” He smiled, tipped his hat and took the back door out of the house. No use to chance putting his foot in his mouth again and wearing out his welcome on his first visit.

His thoughts zeroed in on the murder as he left. He couldn’t see a man driving all the way from Houston to the Silver Spurs in a storm just to shoot a woman.

And what rotten timing for Kali. She’d moved to one of the most crime-free idyllic areas in the state only to step right into the path of a killer.

He was glad his mother had insisted he check on her. Kali wasn’t the svelte, sophisticated model-type beauty he usually dated, but she had that healthy girl-next-door-thing going on.

He might consider coming over here and actually doing a little physical labor himself except that he’d just taken a position at Collingsworth Oil that required his presence at the Houston office Monday through Friday. Not that she’d miss him. There would be plenty of eager cowboys to take his place.

He still thought his offer of her spending the night at Jack’s Bluff made sense, but admittedly there was no real reason to think the killer would return unless…

Unless the killer actually was a deranged pervert and knew Kali was living alone on the isolated ranch. That thought continued to haunt him as he drove the few miles back to Jack’s Bluff.

WORK MADE the day pass all too quickly and it was dusk before Kali took her first break. She poured herself a cup of tea and collapsed onto the wooden rocker that she’d polished to a glossy shine.

The room looked a hundred percent better than it had this morning. The sofas’ worn upholstery was shampooed, and the ragged, dust-infused cotton throw rugs were resting in the bottom of the trash. A bedroom and the house’s one bathroom were just as clean. She’d tackle the kitchen tomorrow.

The floorboards creaked beneath the movement of the rocker. She shifted and her gaze fell on the spot where she’d scrubbed the blood from the floorboards. The stain had almost completely disappeared, yet the scene she’d walked in on materialized vividly in her mind, sending a foreboding chill through her bloodstream.

Kali took a deep breath that did little to settle her nerves, then grabbed her jacket and walked onto the porch for a bracing breath of cold air. She’d managed to keep the disturbing thoughts and fearsome questions at bay while she was struggling with the cleaning chores. Now they were claiming her mind and tightening her sore, aching muscles.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against the porch railing, staring at the dirt drive that led away from the house and meandered its lonely way to the highway. The isolation closed in on her, attacking her self confidence. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in turning down Zach’s offer to spend the night with his family at Jack’s Bluff.

Zach Collingsworth. His name played in her mind, then slipped from her lips with the frosty vapors of her breath. She’d wondered what it would be like to see him again, had thought she might not even recognize him. Mainly she’d hoped that the childish crush would seem stupid and something to laugh about now that they were both in their mid twenties.

She should have been so lucky.

At eleven he’d been cute. Now he was—in a word—gorgeous. Thick, dark hair, cut stylishly short, but long enough that a woman could sink her fingers into it. Lean, not too tall, but tall enough. He looked like a model, yet with that cowboy edge that made him reek of sensuality.

And here she went, falling into the same Zach trap that she had years ago. But she couldn’t give in to the mind-numbing attraction this time. She needed all her wits about her. She had one year to make a go of the riding stables and training center before she ran out of money. One short year to make her dream a reality—or see it die.

Pulling her jacket around her, she gave a last look into the growing darkness, then turned and went back inside. The piercing jangle of her cell phone startled her and sent her rushing to the kitchen to find it amidst the cleaning supplies.

“Hello.”

“Howdy.”

Kali recognized the deep, slightly crusty voice even before the sheriff finished identifying himself.

“How are things going out at the Silver Spurs?”

“Fine, so far.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Do you have any leads on a suspect?” she asked, hoping that was why he’d called.

“No, but I thought you might like to know that we’ve identified the body. The woman’s name is Louisa Kellogg.”

“Is she from Colts Run Cross?”

“No. She was a student at the University of Houston. That’s about all I know for now, but I’m hoping we have some of the killer’s DNA on her somewhere. If not, there’s a good chance we have fingerprints from your door or the light switch, maybe even from the walls.”

“Have you questioned anyone about her?”

“Not yet, but don’t you worry. We’ll catch the killer. Right now I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

Apprehension shook her resolve. “Why? Have you changed your mind about it being safe for me to stay here?”

“Not at all. The killer’s likely from Houston just like his victim. He’ll probably stay way the hell away from the scene of the crime—pardon my French. In case he doesn’t, one of my best-trained deputies is keeping an eye on your place tonight.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Just don’t shoot him if he shines a light around the house to check things out. He ain’t much to look at, but his wife still likes having him around.”

She smiled at the sheriff’s humor in spite of the fear that pummeled her nerves. Once she’d said goodbye and broken the connection, she struggled to push the situation to the back corners of her mind.

She should fix something to eat and have a glass of wine, but first she needed a bath. The layers of dust and grime she’d cleaned from the house seemed embedded in her skin.

She walked to the bathroom, turned on the faucet and stripped off her jeans, T-shirt and undies. Ex-hausted, she stepped into the claw-footed tub and sank into the hot water. By the time she’d lathered every inch of her body, she was so weary she could barely think.

She’d forgotten to unpack the towels she’d brought with her so she padded to the bedroom for her old yellow fleece robe, dripping as she went. She snuggled into the robe and fell across the bed.

The wind picked up, rattling the windows and pushing cold drafts around the sills. She closed her eyes, half expecting images of Louisa Kellogg’s body to creep into her mind.

Instead it was Zach Collingsworth’s face that pushed through the fog of fatigue. As far as her heart was concerned, he might be the most dangerous dream of all.

THE COLLINGSWORTH Sunday brunch had its roots more in a bribe than a treat for the taste buds. Lenora’s faith was all-important to her and when she’d first married Randolph she’d wanted him to share it. She’d promised to cook anything and everything he wanted if he’d go to church with her.

Reluctantly, he’d agreed, but he’d put her to the test week after week, requesting one gourmet entree after another. The bribe had been a success on several levels. Randolph had eventually embraced her faith in God, her cooking skills had improved dramatically and the Collingsworth family brunch had become entrenched in their routine.

A few years back, Lenora’s children had persuaded her to hire a cook so that she could have more time for herself. Now Sunday was the only day Lenora took over her kitchen. She made the most of it by planning ahead and delegating duties so that in under an hour after returning from early services at their church, the family was gathered at the table. She always served up old favorites and a couple of surprises. Today the surprises were crab bisque and raspberry scones topped with Chantilly cream.

The doorbell rang just as her father-in-law Jeremiah finished saying grace, his voice growing so steady of late that at times he sounded almost like the pre-stroke Jeremiah.

“That’s probably Melvin,” Langston said. “He was supposed to get back from a business trip to Dubai last night, and he said he was hungry for Texas cooking.”

Lenora started to go for another plate, but her daughter Becky beat her to the task. Billy Mack, a brunch regular, scooted over a bit and made room for the extra chair Bart was already sliding into place.

Melvin was Langston’s right-hand man at Collingsworth Oil. Jeremiah had hired him without consulting Langston, but Melvin had immediately proved his worth by suggesting changes that had increased their profits on a drilling project in the Gulf of Mexico by twenty percent.

But that was business. It was his ready smile and terrific sense of humor that had let him work his way into the family circle.

Jeremiah reached for the plate of scrambled eggs that was just out of his reach. “You guys gonna pass food or just play musical chairs?”

“Yeah,” Derrick said. “I’m starved.”

“You are always starved,” Bart said, teasing his young nephew. “You can tell you’re kin to your uncle Matt.”

“Ranchers need stamina,” Matt said, spooning gravy onto his biscuits.

“So do football players,” David said, reaching across his twin brother to grab a scone. “Like my Dad. He can really eat, can’t he, Grandma?”

“He can indeed.”

Langston finally returned, but he ushered in two guests instead of one. Lenora was surprised to see Aidan Jefferies with Melvin.

“Hey, just in time to dig in,” Melvin said. “How’s that for timing?”

Aidan smiled and planted a kiss on Lenora’s cheek. “Hope I’m not intruding. I can wait in the living room until you’ve finished your meal.”

“Nonsense,” Lenora answered quickly. “Not only do you have to eat, you have to tell me how delicious everything is.”

“Several times,” Zach said. “Those who fail to praise excessively never get invited back.”

Aidan grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love every bite.”

Lenora pushed away from the table. “I’ll get another plate.”

“Keep your seat, Mom,” Langston said. “I’m already up.”

Melvin tousled the boys’ hair and waved to the rest of the family, then grabbed another chair and slid it next to Jaime’s.

“Did you two come out together?” Bart asked.

“No,” Aidan said. “We just happened to turn in your gate at the same time.”

Aidan gave no indication that this was anything other than a chance visit, but Lenora doubted that to be the case. He and Langston were the best of friends and had been for years, but the busy Houston homicide detective seldom showed up unannounced.

Whatever Aidan’s reason for coming, he managed to join in the jocular mood of the group as the food disappeared. Melvin kept the conversation interesting by sharing some of the more fascinating accounts of his recent trip. Her granddaughter Gina added excitement when she described her winning performance in the barrel-racing competition at the local rodeo the night before. Fortunately, Lenora had been there to see the feat firsthand.

Thankfully, no one brought up Kali or Louisa Kellogg during the meal. Nonetheless, the situation monopolized Lenora’s thoughts. She was almost certain that Aidan had come to talk to them about a development in the murder case and that the news would not be good.