by Eve Gaddy
“Not the Rangers. Just you. I remember you, McClain. I know your type. No badge is going to change that. Your type never changes.”
His type. A street kid. To this man, and others like him, no matter what Will became, what profession he practiced, he’d always be trash. So it gave him a great deal of pleasure to say, “If you prefer, Mr. Jennings, I can take you down to the station, book you and arrange for questioning, oh, say some time tomorrow. Maybe a night in jail will change your attitude.” Jennings hissed in a breath and glared at him. “Or we can do it here and now,” Will continued. “Your choice.”
“Ask your questions,” Jennings snapped, and sat down. “And you’d better be damned quick about it.”
Will took his time, dragging up a nearby chair and arranging himself in it comfortably. He sensed Jennings growing angrier with each passing moment. Good. Anger often led people to say things they shouldn’t. He pulled out a notepad and pen, in case Jennings actually told him something useful. “As you know, I’m here about the murder of Frances Granger. Specifically, I’m looking into her actions the morning she disappeared,” he said, naming the date.
“I don’t know anything about the woman’s actions. Not that morning or any other.”
“You didn’t see Frances Granger that morning.”
“No. And I probably wouldn’t remember if I had.” A sneer marked his expression. “I don’t make a habit of keeping up with the domestic help.”
“Are you saying you never saw her? She cleaned your home for four or five years, didn’t she? Isn’t that a little far-fetched?”
He gritted his teeth. “Of course I saw her. Shuffling through with her cleaning buckets and mops and whatnot, usually at the most inconvenient times, too. I don’t remember if I saw her that specific morning, however. The help was and is my wife Catherine’s responsibility, not mine.”
“Did you ever talk to Mrs. Granger? You were Jed Louis’s trustee. Did you ever discuss him with Frannie?”
“I really don’t remember. I doubt it. As a rule, I don’t chitchat with the hired help.”
He looked a little uneasy, Will thought, and wondered why. “Did you notice anything odd about Mrs. Granger prior to her disappearance? Anything at all?”
“No, damn it. I’ve told you I didn’t talk to the woman.”
He hadn’t learned much but he could always question Jennings again, if it became necessary. “You can’t think of anything that might shed light on Mrs. Granger’s disappearance?”
“No, I’ve told you that.”
Just then a strident female voice echoed in the outer office. “Ranger McClain and I are old friends. I’m sure he won’t mind if I pop in.”
As the door to the office opened, Jennings looked, if possible, even more irritated than before. “Amanda, what do you think you’re—”
“Don’t mind me, Dad.” She gave him an airy wave. “I just came in to see Will.”
“I’m having a business meeting here, Amanda. How many times have I told you not to interrupt me?”
“Business? Oh, you must mean about poor Mrs. Granger’s murder. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I’m sure I could help, Will.”
“As a matter of fact, I would like to talk to you, Amanda. But—” he glanced at Jennings, who seemed ready to bust a gut “—I don’t think your father wants us using his office for another interview. Why don’t you come to the station with me? We can talk there.”
A shudder shook her. “The station? Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I have far too much to do right now.” She reached out to stroke his arm. “But you can come to the house. I’m at my parents’ place for the time being. In the guest house, actually. Say, eight o’clock tonight?”
He didn’t particularly want to put it off, and he didn’t have any interest in her angle in asking him over. But then again, he didn’t mind jerking Jennings’s chain. And Amanda was likely to be a lot more talkative in a relaxed atmosphere. After a couple of drinks, who knew what she might spill.
“All right. Eight it is.” He turned to the banker and said, “Thanks for your help, Mr. Jennings. I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else.”
He managed not to smile at the snarl Jennings couldn’t restrain.
Chapter Eleven
BY THE TIME Will made it to Tessa’s that night, his mood was in the toilet. Then she opened the door to him, and her welcoming smile hit him square in the heart that Emmy had accused him of not having. He walked in, took Tessa in his arms and kissed her soundly. “Thanks for coming to the courthouse.”
“I was afraid you’d think—you’d think I was interfering. Or clinging.”
Clinging? He’d had women cling before. That was the last word he’d use in connection with Tessa. He had to smile again. “I thought you were sweet. Thanks.” He kissed her again, then released her.
“I kind of gathered the bail hearing didn’t go well.” She took his hand, leading him to the couch, stepping over a snoozing Goofy as she did.
“Not much of a watchdog, is he?” Will said, seeing the dog twitch in his sleep.
She smiled wryly. “No, that doesn’t seem to be his forte. Once he’s asleep I don’t think a cannon blast would wake him. So tell me what happened.”
“The best thing I can say about the hearing is that the judge didn’t deny bail. Other than that, it was a bust.” He rubbed his fingers over his temple. “The rest of the day didn’t get any better. I interviewed every one of Frannie’s employers, those who haven’t died or moved away, and came up with zip. No one saw anything, no one heard anything. We’ll start on the ones who moved away tomorrow. If we can trace them,” he added grimly.
Amanda hadn’t been any help, either. They had talked about Amanda overhearing Jed and him discussing the argument between Jed and Frannie, but Will remembered it better than she did. She’d spent most of the evening making it clear she wouldn’t mind time between the sheets with him. When he’d told her he was involved with someone else, she’d stared at him blankly for a moment before asking, “And that’s a problem?”
“No leads at all?” Tessa asked.
“Nada. I even tried Frannie’s best friend, Joleen Berber, and that was as unproductive as the rest of the interviews. Not to mention, weird.”
He thought back. Joleen had sure acted strangely when he questioned her. Though she’d answered his questions about whether she’d seen Frannie on the fateful morning, or if she knew anything about her plans, she’d been jumpy as a barefoot kid on hot asphalt. If Will didn’t know better he’d think she was hiding something. But what? He didn’t believe she’d killed Frannie, because he couldn’t see a motive. Maybe being around the law made her nervous. It affected a lot of people that way, though he wouldn’t have thought someone who’d known him since he was a teenager would have felt that way, lawman or not.
“Jed’s upset with you,” Tessa said.
“Jed and Gwyn hate my guts,” he said flatly. “Riley seems to be withholding judgment but thinks I’m misguided. Emmy is upset with me, and asked me if I’m the same person she used to know. I don’t think she hates me. Yet.”
“I wish I could help.”
“You do.” He caught her hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re the only person around here who’s actually objective about the case.” The only person he could talk to and not have to defend his every move. The only one who couldn’t possibly have killed Frannie, and more, the only person who didn’t have a stake in who had done it. “But that’s enough about my lousy day. Let’s talk about yours.”
“I didn’t get out to the site. I was tied up with classes all day. But I did have something exciting happen.”
“What?” He smiled as her eyes brightened.
“I had my first convert.” He must have looked confused, because she went on to explain. “One of my students told me today h
e’d decided to change his major to archaeology. Because he liked my class so much.”
“Yeah? You must have gotten a kick out of that.”
She nodded excitedly. “I didn’t know teaching could be like this. I’d never taught a class, not for any length of time. Not a college course.” Her eyes clouded, and a wistful look crept into them. “For the first time I felt that I mattered. That I made a difference.”
Before he could speak, the phone rang. Tessa excused herself and reached for it. Pepe came over and lashed his tail, sitting down to lick his paws and stare at Will. He looked a lot better, with nearly all the paint gone and his black hair almost shiny. Tessa must brush his fur daily, Will thought. The cat would never be a beauty though. Will decided if the looks the critter aimed at him were any sign, he’d make a better watchdog than Goofy. “I met her first,” he told the cat. Pepe seemed to smirk, then licked his other paw.
Although he didn’t try to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help overhearing Tessa’s part of the conversation. Every drop of animation had drained out of her voice. She spoke in monosyllables and tapped her fingers on the table as she talked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Her fingers tightened on the receiver, whitening noticeably. “No, Mother, I’ve already told you, that’s impossible.”
Mother? Will tried to remember what Tessa had said about her parents, but beyond the fact they had both been archaeologists, and that her father was dead, he couldn’t think of much.
“I’ll call you when I know,” Tessa said. “Yes, as soon as I know.”
“Family problems?” he asked as she hung up.
“Not exactly.” She smiled, but it lacked warmth. “Just my mother trying to get her way.” He didn’t speak, but lifted an eyebrow in question. Tessa sighed and added, “She wants me to go to Peru. It doesn’t matter how much I tell her about my obligations here, she just won’t listen.”
“Peru? What for?”
“An archaeological expedition. She’s determined to get me in on it.”
“Why? Is it such a big deal?”
“Yes. Not as big as she’s making it out to be, but it’s big. But that’s beside the point. I can’t leave here to go on a dig that will last six months or more.”
Six months? He hadn’t realized a dig took so long. But then, he didn’t know much about archaeology. “Did you explain your work here?”
“Only a million times. She’s totally ignoring the work for the police, and she doesn’t consider a temporary job at a small college to be a deciding factor.”
“Do you?”
“I honor my obligations. I said I’d teach until fall, at least. Until they find a replacement.”
“And then you’re gone.”
She met his gaze, hers solemn. “It’s what I had planned on doing. Assuming I’m through with my thesis work.”
“What about teaching? I thought you liked it.”
“I do. But it’s a temporary thing. They knew that from the start.”
Temporary. He wondered if she considered their relationship temporary as well. Why did it bother him so much that she probably did? After all, he’d acknowledged the same thing when they first met.
“What if you changed your mind?” He stretched his arm across the couch and toyed with the ends of her hair. “Decided to stay?”
“Changed my mind? You mean, take a permanent position at the college?” She looked totally shocked, as if the thought had never occurred to her.
“Yeah. You like teaching. Why not?”
“Because I can’t just give up my career. I’ve been working for years to get to this point. To get my Ph.D.”
His hand slid around to the back of her neck, urging her closer. “You wouldn’t be giving it up, just changing the focus.” His lips cruising her jawline, he murmured, “You’d still get your PhD, wouldn’t you? That’s what the burial mound is all about.”
“Um, yes.” She sighed. “But that’s not the . . . What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of your clothes,” he said, unfastening her last shirt button. “Any objections?”
His hands closed over her breasts and her eyes turned smoky blue. “I’ve forgotten what we were talking about,” she said huskily. He popped her bra clasp and they both groaned as he filled his hands with her bare breasts. “The bedroom—”
“Too far,” he said, lying back and pulling her down on top of him. She rubbed her naked breasts against his chest, and even through the fabric of his shirt he could feel her nipples stiffening. No way was he going to last until the bedroom. “What’s wrong with right here?” His hands slid to her rear, pressed her into him. “Right now.”
“Not a thing,” she said, and kissed him.
TESSA ARRIVED at the Catfish Corner the next day a few minutes early for her lunch meeting with Ellen. She didn’t mind waiting. The past couple of days, she hadn’t been much good for anything beyond daydreaming. Still, nights like the ones she’d spent with Will certainly deserved a little dreaming.
It’s not going to last, she reminded herself, and felt a pang of longing. But she intended to have fun while it did. She sighed, knowing she must have a goofy look on her face, but she couldn’t help it. For the first time since she was twelve, she felt young and carefree. As if anything was possible. Almost anything.
She looked around, noticing that Amanda Jennings and a woman she didn’t know sat at the table next to her booth. Amanda’s voice carried clearly, and Tessa heard every word. But she didn’t pay much attention until she heard the other woman say, “Will? You mean you and Will McClain? Tearing up the sheets?”
“Not just the sheets.” Amanda laughed. Her gaze flicked over Tessa without recognition. She leaned forward, closer to her friend, and lowered her voice, but Tessa heard every word, sounding a death knell in her heart. “I have to tell you, Tracy, it was unbelievable. I’ve been married three times and thought nothing could surprise me, but Will . . .” She sighed and laid a hand over her heart. “He’s amazing.”
Tessa’s stomach plummeted. Not again, she thought. I can’t go through this again. Not with Will.
“Tessa? Are you all right?”
Stunned, she looked up. Ellen was beside the table, her round face creased with concern, eyes dark with worry. Solid, dependable, loyal Ellen.
“No, I’m not. I have to leave.” She stood on shaky legs, throwing down a couple of dollars for the tea. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay for lunch.”
“Wait, I’m coming with you,” Ellen said, charging after her. “You look like you’re about to throw up,” she said as they reached Tessa’s car.
“I am.” Tessa propped her hands against the car door and hung her head, sucking in air desperately. She needed to calm down. To think about this logically. Forget that, she needed to kill Will McClain.
“Are you sick?”
Dizziness subsiding, she shook her head. “No, I’m stupid. Terminally stupid.”
“I don’t get it. Did I miss something?”
Tessa straightened and looked at her friend. “Just Amanda Jennings talking about what a great lover Will McClain is.”
Ellen winced. “Oh, crap.” After a long pause she said, “You’re sleeping with him.”
“You got it. And apparently, so is Amanda.”
“You’re sure you didn’t misinterpret what she said?”
“Please, it was crystal clear. Her friend asked if they’d been tearing up the sheets and Amanda said, ‘Not just the sheets.’” She closed her eyes, remembering the rest of what she’d heard. “It was unbelievable,” she mimicked.
“Oh crap,” Ellen said again.
Tessa gazed at Ellen fiercely. “Will was with me last night, too. After Amanda. Oh, I can’t believe I’ve been this dumb again.” She pounded a fist on her car door, not even noticing the pain.
“I swore after college I’d never let another man make a fool of me, and look what I’ve done.”
“I could point out you’re jumping to conclusions here.”
“Logical conclusions. Wouldn’t you?”
Ellen frowned, tapped a finger to her cheek. “I don’t know. Do you and Amanda know each other?”
“We’ve met. Not that she’d recognize me,” Tessa said bitterly, leaning back against her car door. “She was too busy drooling over Will to remember me.”
“Did she know you could hear her?”
Tessa thought about that. “Yes. She looked right at me when she talked to her friend.”
“Convenient.”
Tessa’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious? What if she’s making it up?”
“Oh, come on, Ellen. Why would she?”
“Because she wants you to dump him. To leave him free for her to go after.”
Too good to be true, Tessa thought. “Do you really believe that?”
“Why not? Amanda has always been a liar. Even though I was a few years behind her in high school, I heard the talk. That woman couldn’t tell the truth if somebody offered her a million bucks. Lying about Will would be perfectly in character for her.”
But what if Amanda was telling the truth? Tessa and Will hadn’t made any promises of exclusivity. A mistake on her part. She should have made her feelings about that clear at the outset. “I want her to be lying,” she said, voice low.
Ellen patted her arm. “Talk to Will. He’s a good guy, Tessa. He’ll tell you the truth.”
Would he? Somehow, she thought he would. But would the truth be something she could live with?
ON HIS WAY OUT for a quick bite of lunch, Will jerked open his office door. He didn’t know who was more surprised, him or the man standing there, his hand raised to knock. Silently they stared at each other. “It’s about damn time you showed up,” Will said finally, then broke into a smile. “How the hell are you, Rico?”
