Читать книгу The Last Landry - Kelsey Roberts - Страница 11

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Shane Landry grumbled a week later as some pencil-necked lab tech with a long cotton swab headed in his direction.

“There were stains on the towels found in the well with Mom and Dad,” his brother Seth explained as he tipped his Stetson back off his forehead. “They were pretty degraded, but they might be useful, since initial testing revealed three distinct blood types.”

Shane opened his mouth to allowed the tech to scrape the dry end of the swab around the inside of his cheek. When that was over, he swallowed, hoping to rid himself of the cotton taste in his mouth. “How will samples from all of us help?” he asked as the man packed up his shiny chrome case and scurried out of the office.

Seth leaned against his desk. “I’m hardly an expert on the double helix. I’m guessing that if we all give DNA samples, then the lab will use our profiles to filter out Mom and Dad’s blood, hopefully allowing the crime scene guys to isolate the third sample. All I know is that Detective Rollins called and asked that we all do this. Since we don’t have anything to hide, I agreed.” Seth’s expression darkened. “We don’t have anything to hide, do we?”

A quick, guilty shiver crawled down Shane’s spine, but he answered, “No.”

Seth seemed to relax. “Didn’t think so. Anyway, it has something to do with the fact that it will take a lot of time to extract DNA from the…bones, so this is faster. The investigation is high profile and going nowhere, so Rollins is in a hurry to find something that might generate a lead.”

“I’m all for that,” Shane agreed. “You coming out to the ranch tonight? Taylor’s making a stew. She mumbled something about it when I saw her this morning. Not that I was paying much attention to her, mind you. I’ve found the best way to deal with Taylor is to ignore her whenever possible.” Seth smiled, prompting Shane to ask, “What?”

“Nice try.”

“What?” Shane repeated, feeling defensive.

“Give it up, Shane. You’re hot for the girl. And as my wife reminded me just last night, for the hundredth time I might add, you better do something before she rides off into the proverbial sunset. So no, we won’t be coming to the ranch. My wife is quite insistent that you two need time alone so you’ll have no choice but to acknowledge your mutual attraction. Hurry up, though, would you?”

The defensive shield evaporated, leaving a blend of fear and annoyance swirling in Shane’s gut. “Hurry up and what? It isn’t like she sends me anything other than the stay-away vibe.”

Seth’s head fell back as he laughed. “You may not be technically blind, but you are totally dumb, bro. Taylor’s perfect for you. You just have to find a way past her defenses. She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s—”

“Sarcastic and she picks on me.”

“Part of her charm,” Seth countered. “Besides, we all pick on you because you make it so easy. Back to Taylor. Aren’t you curious?”

“Physically or intellectually?” Shane countered. “The physical part is a no-brainer. Any man with a pulse would crawl over hot coals to be with her. But she’s a freaking genius, Seth. She’s smarter than I am, she’s about to earn her third degree—a doctorate, for chrissake. I have absolutely nothing to offer her,” he admitted, frowning. Saying it out loud made him feel like more of an idiot. Her IQ shouldn’t matter, but to a guy who’d barely made it through high school, it sure as hell did.

“She takes verbal potshots at me. Only me. Has since day one, because the rest of you all have fancy educations.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid. Taylor isn’t an intellectual snob. Ever think she might be sniping at you and only you because you’re the one she has a thing for?”

“No,” Shane admitted candidly. “In five years she hasn’t dropped a single hint in that direction. You’re way off base, bro.”

“Have you?”

Over the messy pile of files, Shane fired a hostile glance in his brother’s direction. “We’re getting a little personal here.”

“You’re getting a little avoidance here,” Seth retorted, his tone and cadence mimicking Shane’s. “I’m just suggesting that you act while you still have a chance. Just exactly how long do you think Taylor will hang around after graduation?”

Shane didn’t want to think about that. She had become such an integral part of his life. Every one of his days for the last five years had begun and ended with Taylor. She was as much a part of the ranch as he was. He didn’t want to imagine waking up to anything other than the smell of fresh coffee wafting up to his room. Or the thrill he felt when he walked downstairs to find her working in the kitchen or sitting at the table, her pretty face buried in a book.

He slumped in the chair. Shane knew to the second just how much time he had left. In 960 hours Taylor would get her degree.

“How long?” Seth pressed.

“Doesn’t look too good. She never says anything, but I know she’s been sending résumés all over the country. As far away as California.” Shane rubbed the stubble on his chin. “The last few weeks, with the news, the funeral and the state police crawling all over the ranch, she hasn’t said much. She’s got to be getting offers, though. Hell, for all I know she’s already accepted a job in Outer Mongolia.”

“Then give her a reason not to leave,” Seth suggested.

“Like what?” Shane snapped, annoyed by the feeling of utter helplessness that settled over him whenever he thought about her impending departure. “‘You know that doctorate you’ve spent the last five years earning? Well, instead of working in your field, want to stick around, clean my house and cook for me?’ Right, that’ll work.”

“No, jerk-face,” Seth breathed. “Give her a personal reason. Like telling her that you’re in love with her.”

Shane stilled. “No way.”

One of Seth’s dark brows arched in challenge. “Because it isn’t true?”

“No, because I’m not hanging myself out there when I have no idea how she feels. Hell, try if she feels.”

Letting out a loud breath, Seth shook his head a few times. “What’s the worst thing that can happen if you go for it?”

A humorless sound gurgled in Shane’s throat. “She can verbally shred me to pieces, then laugh in my face. Pass, thanks. Besides, now isn’t the best time to—”

“There is no best time,” Seth interrupted, mildly irritated. “Look at Savannah and me. We got together under pretty impossible circumstances.”

That much was true.

“You shouldn’t use finding Mom and Dad’s remains as an excuse to keep living your life in neutral,” Seth added.

“I’m not.” Much, Shane amended silently. Then again, he was haunted by a demon that none of his brothers even knew existed.

“C’mon, Shane. Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t suspect their being dead was a possibility all these years? We may not have talked about it openly, but I think deep down we all knew it was the most logical explanation for their disappearance.”

“I know. You’re right,” he sighed. “I just hope the state police can find the scumbag who killed them.”

“Me, too,” Seth agreed, his dark eyes sparked with anger. “It’s making me nuts to be cut out of the loop. Detective Rollins isn’t sharing squat about his progress. I do know he subpoenaed old bank records. Makes sense. It’s what I’d do, since we’ve always known about the hundred grand withdrawn the day they went mis…er, died.”

“I’ve always heard you’re supposed to follow the money.”

“Pretty much. Perhaps you’ve also heard the expression ‘the heart wants what it wants when it wants it’?” Seth said, back to the other subject like a fricking bulldog with a bone.

“Um, only from girls.”

He might have his hands tied about helping to solve the case of their murdered parents, but big brother Seth was doggedly hot on the trail of his baby brother’s nonexistent love life. “Brat. I’m serious. Look, Shane. You’ve got a choice to make. You can do nothing and live a lifetime of regret. Or you can decide she’s worth it and take a chance.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one facing verbal castration.” Shane blew out a breath and made a production of tightening the leather strap keeping his hair in place. Grudgingly, he knew Seth’s strategy had some merit. Taylor was smart and funny. But she wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful. Stop-in-your-tracks, heartbeat-skipping stunning. She was tiny, but not the anorexic kind of scrawny. No, Taylor had curves. Soft, supple curves that even those bulky sweaters she was so fond of wearing couldn’t conceal.

She was perpetual energy, with sparkling hazel eyes and hair the color of winter wheat. She was also mere weeks from completing her graduate work.

“You’re frowning,” Seth remarked.

“She scares me,” he admitted. “Taylor and I have lived under the same roof for five years and we’ve fallen into this…this…I don’t know what you’d call it.”

“The Country Girl.”

“Excuse me?” Shane asked, meeting his brother’s dark eyes.

“It’s a movie. Grace Kelly was in it?”

“You’re a country girl,” Shane teased. “Jeez, we marry you off and now you’re quoting chick flick titles. That’s just wrong, Seth. You need to go out and do something manly before it’s too late.”

“I’m making a point, bozo. Listen and learn. In the movie, the husband is a schmuck, the wife is an actress and the director has the hots for the actress-wife. The drunk, schmuck husband gets that the director is lusting after his wife.”

“What a loser.”

“Whatever,” Seth grumbled. “At one point in the movie, the drunk husband says the only thing worse than two people making eyes at each other is two people trying not to.”

“And your point is?”

“You and Taylor are the actress and the director. I see the way you watch her when you think she isn’t looking.”

“Everybody watches her. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“So what are you afraid of?” Seth asked pointedly.

“Aside from the fact that she’s smarter than I am? More educated? Hasn’t so much as hinted that she’s interested, you mean?”

Seth nodded. “Besides all that.”

“I don’t have anything to offer her. What’s she going to do on the ranch, show inkblots to cattle all day?”

Seth snorted. “First, you are a smart guy. Secondly, who cares what degrees she has? Thirdly, you haven’t so much as asked her out on a date. Maybe you should start there.”

“A date?” Shane repeated, as if the word was new to him.

“Dinner, a movie? Surely you remember how to date.”

“I know how to date. You’re the one who’s turned into girlie, movie-quoting guy.”

“I don’t know if I’d cast aspersions, Shane. Not when you’re celibate guy.”

Shane uttered a mild curse as he left the office. Problem was, he wasn’t completely sure which one of them he was consigning to the fires of hell.

“LANDRY RESIDENCE.”

“Taylor Reese?”

“Speaking.” Taylor couldn’t tell if the voice on the other end of the phone was male or female. No response. Which was darn annoying since she was elbow deep in pastry dough. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She rolled her eyes as she trapped the cordless phone between her head and shoulder in order to continue rolling out the pie shells. She didn’t have time for some teenager making prank calls on a rainy spring afternoon. “It does to me,” she said. “I’m in the middle of something. FYI, pal, this is the sheriff’s house. If you’re so much as thinking about harassing me, forget it. But have a nice day.”

“I know who you are.”

Was that supposed to be scary? “I got that when you used my name.” Annoying little creep. While she could sympathize with some poor kid stranded in what to a teenager would be the mind-numbing solitude of Jasper, Montana, she had pies to bake and deliver to the bunkhouse before leaving to make her seven o’clock class. “Bye-bye.”

With flour-dusted fingers, she grabbed the phone, pressed the off button and went back to work.

Not an easy chore, since the counters at the Lucky 7 Ranch were just a bit too high. She had to get on tiptoe in order to roll out the top crust.

The century-old kitchen was a cook’s delight. In fact, everything about the house appealed to her. Everything up to and including its occupant.

Shane Landry appealed to her in a lot of ways. Too many. Which was why she did her level best to keep her distance. She’d worked too long and too hard to do otherwise. She was not going to turn into a woman like her mother. Not going to repeat the pattern she’d learned at the feet of a master. She attacked the dough with gusto as she mentally reviewed her mother’s choices. Taylor had made that promise to herself on her thirteenth birthday. Until she had created a life for herself, no man was welcome as anything more than a temporary diversion. She’d never be dependent.

Which was why Shane was such a dangerous temptation. Temptation being the operative word. It seemed unfair that one man should be given so many gifts. She frowned at her own lack of self-restraint. No good would or could come of fantasizing about him.

Though she was weeks from graduation, she hardly needed an advanced degree to diagnose the fact that she was attracted to the wrong man. She blew out a breath of frustration as she lifted the crust on top of the sliced apples and began crimping the edges with a vengeance.

“Killing it or cooking it?” Shane asked when he sauntered into the room a second later.

His large hand snaked around her, snatching a slice of apple out of the pie before she could stop him. She slapped his fingers. The quick, fraction-of-a-second contact was all it took for her pulse to kick into gear. Damn! No touching, she reminded herself. Thinking about him was bad enough. Physical contact with Shane made her almost forget why he was off-limits.

She nudged him back with her elbow. Did the blasted man always have to stand so close? “Stick your hands in my food again and I’ll kill you and cook you. Not necessarily in that order. Don’t you have someplace to be? Other than here?” Where I won’t smell the fresh scent of soap mingling with your cologne? Where I won’t feel the warmth of your body or know that all I have to do is turn around to be in your arms?

“I belong here,” Shane reminded her. Taylor frowned again when she noticed a new bruise on his wrist as he stole another apple slice and his arm brushed hers. “You’re in a particularly nasty mood today,” he said cheerfully. “What happened, did they cancel Dr. Phil? Bummer.”

“Do not mock Dr. Phil,” Taylor insisted, stepping away before she turned to glare up at him. “He’s a very insightful, intelligent man. Two things, by the way, you are not.”

“But I’m the man who pays you, so how about something to eat?”

“Sure. Put on your shoes and socks and go to the fridge.”

His crystal-blue eyes glinted with humor. “Housekeeper, Taylor. From the ancient Greek phrase meaning ‘keep the people in the house happy.’ This is me…” he paused and waved his hands “…not happy.”

“And this is me…” she gave him her brightest smile “…not caring.”

He couldn’t help but watch as she put the pie in the oven, stiffened her spine and walked out of the room with all the airs and dignity of royalty departing the throne. There was the added bonus of seeing her hips sway with each step. Taylor had a killer body. She kept him awake nights. Which sucked, since there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his attraction to her. Seth’s sage advice aside, Shane still didn’t think he was ready to hang himself out there just to have her slice him to shreds with that sharp tongue and even sharper mind. Especially not when she’d practically just called him stupid.

Shane took a few minutes to clean up her baking mess, then rummaged around, finally settling on some cheese and crackers. There was a wonderful smell coming from the Crock-Pot, so he knew better than to spoil his appetite. In addition to her physical perfection, Taylor was a really great cook. He tried to tell himself that he’d kept her on for that reason and that reason alone after Sam, Callie and the kids had moved out last fall.

After that, there really wasn’t a need for live-in help. Not when it was just him. And Taylor.

And enough sexual tension knotting his gut to choke several of his prize bulls.

He took the same seat at the kitchen table that had been his since he’d graduated from a high chair. He cut off a hunk of cheese and slipped it into his mouth, chasing it with a long swallow of beer.

He was still sad over the recent confirmation that his parents were gone. It didn’t make sense. Who would have wanted to kill them?

He took a healthy slug of his beer, enjoying the whiff of pot roast and the mouthwatering aroma of hot apple pie.

Shane had a feeling his mom would have adored Taylor. And—God—she would have loved all her grandbabies, too. It was sad to realize his parents would never be a part of their grandchildren’s lives. It wasn’t fair, he thought grimly.

Shane focused on being happy for all his brothers. He adored his sisters-in-law and all the little Landrys they had produced. He felt like the odd man out, though. Again.

As the youngest of the seven sons of Caleb and Priscilla, he also held the dubious distinction of being the only one who had rebelled as a teenager. The only one who had inspired the ire of their father and the protection of their mother.

Shane suffered a familiar pinch in his chest. Suddenly, the snack wasn’t all that appetizing, so he shoved it nearer the center of the large oak table that dominated the room, and concentrated on his beer.

Thinking about the recent loss filled him with guilt. He knew something about the time just before their murder. Something he’d never been able to share. Not with his brothers, not with anyone. It was gnawing at his insides.