by Janet Dailey
Harold was tending bar. A new waitress had been hired for the season and was busy taking orders from several tables.
“My goodness. So this is your place,” Mrs. Pearson said. “It’s very cozy. I approve.”
Nell guided her to a back booth. “We can have this all to ourselves. What would you like? A glass of sherry?”
“That would be very nice. You wouldn’t happen to have a cookie to go with it, would you?”
“Annie Bennett brought me a box of her mom’s Christmas cookies. You sit down and I’ll bring everything.” She helped the old lady with her coat and hung it on the hook by the booth, then bustled away.
She returned with two tiny glasses, a bottle of sherry, and the cookie box, setting everything down and sliding into the vinyl seat bench across from Elsie’s.
“What a treat this is. Thank you for picking me up.”
“Now that you have some help, you can get out more. It’ll do you good.” Nell uncorked the bottle and poured out a thimbleful of sherry for the old lady, who chose a fancy iced cookie to go with it. Mrs. Pearson took a sip and coughed a little. “I don’t remember the last time I had a drink.” A faint tinge of color reddened her cheeks.
The saloon keeper filled her own small glass and clinked it against Mrs. Pearson’s. “Here’s to the holidays.”
They chatted for a while, not noticing who came and went.
Marshall Stone entered alone, heading for the bar. He glanced at the two women in the back booth, deciding not to go over and say hello. They were deep in conversation and seemed to be the best of friends, although the lady with Nell looked to be at least a generation older.
The saloon looked about the same as always, except for a model of a covered wagon displayed in a glass case on the bar. Even from across the room, the craftsmanship and detail were impressive.
He ordered a beer and drank it slowly, thinking about his dinner options, not inclined to bring takeout back to the cabin and not particularly wanting to dine solo in public. In this friendly little town, he was beginning to be recognized everywhere he went.
Another reason he needed to move on. But he still hadn’t checked a single bad guy off his list. Stone reached into the bowl of peanuts and ate a few, listening absently to what he could hear of Nell’s chitchat and the old lady’s infrequent responses.
His mind was elsewhere. On Annie. He still couldn’t figure out exactly why her dad had stopped to talk to him.
Yes, sir. No, sir. I’d be happy to provide you with a copy of the report, sir. And by the way, I think I’m falling in love with your daughter. Hope you don’t mind.
Tyrell Bennett might not have minded her bunking down at the cabin, but he would hit the roof if he ever knew what Stone had been thinking during every minute Annie was there.
The way she moves. Those eyes. That smile.
He wanted to see her smile more. Annie worried about everyone else and not herself, it seemed to him. According to that fountain of information known as Nell, she was a dutiful daughter and a good friend, loyal and loving.
However, Annie stopped short of being too good to be true—there was something wild and sweetly enticing about her and she didn’t strike him as innocent. Exactly what he’d been looking for, in fact, without his ever knowing it until the day he’d seen her face. Stone had never expected to meet a woman who was so damn close to perfect.
But she wasn’t his. He would have to hit the road again when this assignment was over. It would be irresponsible and wrong to go one step further with beautiful Annie Bennett.
He forced himself to not think about her.
There was the report—he’d have to print out a hard copy somehow. He’d e-mailed the file to the town clerk, who was fine with that. But Tyrell Bennett would want something he could hold in his hand to read and reread.
The old man was absolutely right about being entitled to see the surveyor’s report. All owners of abutting land were supposed to, whether or not there was a dispute going on. And Bennett would be very pleased to have proof that Chuck Pfeffer had most likely reset the old split rail fence and also moved the new one that backed it.
Stone took several swallows of beer. The peanuts were making him thirsty. The thought of someone trying to put something over on honorable people like the Bennetts was making him mad all over again.
Pfeffer must have assumed that Tyrell never got out that far and wouldn’t notice. But Stone had compared his new, accurate measurements against the old ones on the original deed. Numbers didn’t lie. This particular neighbor did.
The sneak would have to give back every inch of the land grab he’d hoped to get away with and pay for a new fence. If he tried to unload his ranch first, he wouldn’t be able to. Stone had alerted the town clerk to the discrepancy, which meant Pfeffer didn’t have a clear title and couldn’t sell.
Tough luck.
If only Stone could resolve the fraud case that easily. All he needed was to nab one of the crooks to get him to rat out the others as part of a plea bargain. Shep Connally had been his choice. But the silver-haired con man had slipped away after giving that speech at the Velde town meeting, except for that one time they’d spotted him going through Kerry’s car.
She hadn’t been able to track him down either, not even after she’d been assigned to the next county as an undercover and started to look for him in different towns farther away. Their subsequent meetings added nothing to the Connally file.
Most likely Shep was using an alias. His MO was undoubtedly the same, starting with offering “free” financial and investment advice to senior citizens’ groups. Shep and his kind preyed on the most vulnerable and they knew how to get old folks to trust them and believe their promises—before they cleaned out bank accounts and skipped town one step ahead of the law.
For Stone, the chase had lost its excitement. After this case got wrapped up, he would move on. But to what, he didn’t exactly know.
Annie Bennett had thrown him for a loop. He’d always made it a point not to get involved with anyone when he was on assignment. Especially not in small towns, or with a rancher’s daughter.
Which meant she was all about family. It was clear to him that the Bennetts stuck together—and Annie was the youngest and the only girl to boot. Never mind her father. She had two older brothers he had yet to meet. Stone would have to prove himself to all three of the Bennett men if he wanted to claim her for his own.
Whatever it takes. The thought came into his mind unbidden. Stone wished there was a way to not want her.
Keeping a safe distance from her at the cabin had been hard. Real hard.
If Annie only knew how he had suffered, lying on the floor, struggling to get comfortable in that narrow sleeping bag, listening to her soft breathing, hearing her stir as she dreamed. He’d fallen asleep just before dawn and woken up to dog breath and a wet nose in his eye.
Yeah. If she’d known, she would have laughed at him and rightly so.
The noise level in the bar had risen as more customers came in. The two women talking in the nearby booth raised their voices slightly.
Stone was startled to hear the old lady with Nell mention Shep Connally. He hadn’t been listening long enough to pick up the reason why. He paid close attention, continuing to look into the bar mirror and not directly at them.
“I finally told him that we had no plans to sell. Not to him or anyone else.” The old lady leaned across the table part of the booth, but her whisper carried farther than that. “Did you know that he carries bundles of cash in a briefcase? He snapped it open and I just got a glimpse. I think he was trying to impress me.” She sat back. “I still said no.”
Stone stayed where he was. He set a buck under the empty beer mug, figuring that he would talk to Nell as soon as he got a chance. Maybe there was more. There had to be more.
“You mean you’re planning to set up a sting?” Nell clapped her hands. “I’ve never been so excited in my life.”
“You can’t broad
cast this all over town,” Stone said firmly. “In fact, you can’t tell anyone. In advance or afterward. We still have to catch the others.”
“Goodness no. I won’t breathe a word.”
Mrs. Pearson laughed dryly. “I’m holding you to that, Nelly girl.”
“Well, if I did, both of you would know it was me. So I can’t.”
“Right. And from what Mr. Stone has told us, you’re not going to be actually involved.”
“I could sit outside in my car and monitor the video feed from the scene.”
“Two deputies in unmarkeds will do that before they station themselves at the doors,” Stone said.
Nell visibly deflated. Then she brightened. “What if I take Jack out? He’s not going to be there for this, I assume.”
“One more time,” Stone said patiently. “Mrs. Pearson is going to ask the home health-care aide to drive Jack to the library and stay there with him for a couple of hours. He’s been asking to go.”
“That’s correct,” the old lady confirmed.
“Neither he nor the aide will know anything about this in advance or afterward.”
Nell nodded. “Makes sense.”
“My partner Kerry is going to pretend to be the aide in a wig and uniform, and she’ll wear nonfunctional earbuds so he’ll think she can’t hear him and Mrs. Pearson. She’ll sit with me in a darkened room, because Connally may know what Kerry looks like. He broke into her car. And I am going to be Jack. With the help of this.”
Stone held up a can of white spray-on hair dye.
“I know what I can do.” Nell cheered up again. “I’ll style you. And Kerry too, if she likes.”
“That should keep you out of trouble. We want this to go as smoothly as possible.”
“I promise to vamoose and not come back until you call me or Elsie does. But is she going to be safe? How do you know what a cornered man might do?” Nell asked.
“We don’t. Kerry and I both have guns for a reason. And we will have the advantage of surprise. I’m not that worried. Shep’s never been violent and never even threatened anyone. He’s not going to want to add twenty years or more to his sentence by assaulting federal officers. He might try to escape, though. But the deputies will be at the front and back doors by then.”
“Besides,” Mrs. Pearson said to Nell, gesturing at Stone, “look at the size of this man. He’s taller and stronger than Jack and fifty years younger. Would you try to bust out if you were a perp? With Stone packing serious heat? I don’t think so.”
They both stared at her.
“What’s wrong? I enjoy a good cop show now and then,” the old lady said primly.
“Nothing.” Stone suppressed a smile. “I just never expected to hear you talk like that. This isn’t a show, though. It is a sting and it’s the real deal. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Pearson.”
“Connally called me right back. I suspect he hasn’t found any other takers. I’m looking forward to doing my bit.”
Nell sighed with admiration. Mrs. Pearson only shrugged.
Stone set down the spray can of dye and Nell peered at the instructions on the back. “Says it washes right out.”
“Good,” Stone said.
“After five shampoos.” Nell laughed at the concerned look on his face. “Not really. I was kidding.”
“That’s okay. I can take it. And, Nell, I want you to know that I appreciate your help too. Real estate fraud is big business. Land in Colorado gets more valuable every year.”
“Don’t I know it. My property taxes keep going up.”
Stone acknowledged that with a nod.
“I think, Mrs. Pearson, that Connally won’t do more than try to obtain financial power of attorney by having you sign something and then forging your signature on real documents. All he wants to do is empty your bank account and skip town.”
“I took out all the money just in case. I can’t wait to see him arrested,” the old lady said gently.
A few days later, they were ready to roll. Connally was due to arrive at the Pearson house in two hours.
Stone squeezed his eyes shut as Nell, wearing safety glasses and a huge scarf over her own hair, climbed onto a stool and sprayed his dark hair. She set down the can and quickly combed in the white dye for a pepper-and-salt look, heavy on the salt.
“That’s believable,” she said with satisfaction, climbing down. “I have a shirt of Jack’s laid out if you want to change into it.”
“I’ll wear my own. A shirt is a shirt. Thanks. Go help Kerry.”
Nell took off the glasses and scarf, and went into the other room.
At the appointed time, there was a knock at the door. “All set?” Mrs. Pearson whispered to Stone and Kerry.
“Yup. Kerry?”
“Yes.”
They sat in semidarkness, watching Mrs. Pearson go to the door. “Mr. Connally, how nice to see you. I’m so happy you could come.”
He offered her a smile and looked toward the adjoining room. Stone and Kerry had turned away from the open door.
“Is that your husband?” Connally asked. “Who’s with him?”
“The aide. Don’t worry. He’s much less restless when she sits with him quietly. And she’s always wearing those darn earbuds. Can’t hear a thing I say from the next room.”
“All right then.”
He followed her to the table, took a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase, and settled into a chair, refusing Mrs. Pearson’s offer of a hot drink. Then he launched into his pitch. She listened carefully, asking a question now and then. Connally was smooth and fast. It only took him half an hour to explain the deal.
“All you have to do to keep the cash flowing is to sign right there on the dotted line,” he said, uncapping a fountain pen.
“What a nice pen,” Mrs. Pearson said. “I like the old ones with nibs and real ink.”
“I’m a traditionalist myself, Mrs. P. I thought a lady like you might prefer a real pen to one of those cheap plastic things. It makes a document look more dignified, don’t you think?”
“I do indeed.” She squinted at the paper. “Just tell me one more time what I’ll get.”
He looked at his watch. “Everything we agreed on.”
“So you will hold the deed to my house in trust and invest the profit for me if I should decide to sell—”
“Which is entirely up to you. No pressure, Mrs. P. I do business the old-fashioned way. I trust you. And you trust me. So we are entering into a trust agreement by mutual consent. Go right ahead and sign.”
Mrs. Pearson was still studying the document. “And if I sell the house and there is sufficient profit, I receive the income from that trust.”
“Yes, yes.” He tapped the dotted line. “If you would sign. I do have a bit of a time crunch.”
She held the fountain pen poised above the paper, then scribbled her name. “Wait!” she cried. “How could I make a mistake like that?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I used my maiden name instead of my married name. I don’t think this is legal.”
The last six words were what Stone and Kerry had been waiting to hear. Before Connally could turn around, they had him cuffed to the chair he was sitting in.
“Shepherd Connally, you are under arrest.”
“What for?” The question sounded almost rhetorical. The man knew.
“For financial fraud. Right here and right now.” Stone picked up the papers from the table, looking closely at the bottom one that Mrs. Pearson hadn’t been able to see when she signed it. “She never agreed to give you power of attorney. So the DA will start with that. And you know good and goddamn well that you’re suspected of fraud and under investigation for other crimes in several states.”
Stone tested the cuffs, looking up when the deputies entered. He moved to face Connally and continued. “It is my duty to inform you that you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court
of law. If you do not have an attorney . . .”
Nell came in the front door, her eyes bright with excitement. “I saw him being taken away in the unmarked car, but I waited to walk over. Are all of you okay? What happens now?”
She looked at Stone and Kerry, who were sitting at the table, filling out arrest reports. “Paperwork,” they answered simultaneously. “They never do this on cop shows.”
Nell averted her gaze. “I won’t peek. Elsie, dear, I’m sure you need a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, Nell. That would be very pleasant.”
“My goodness. You’re so calm.”
“It’s over. I don’t want to think about it. But don’t forget your vow of silence.”
“My lips are zipped. Not one word to anyone. No need to remind me.”
Mrs. Pearson gave her a shaky smile. “Nell. I just want to say thanks. For everything. You did more than you know.”
Chapter 22
The day was cold and clear, with a stiff breeze that blew snow crystals off the remaining drifts. Annie’s eyes teared up as she blinked and rubbed her stinging cheeks with her mittens. She should have put on lotion but she hadn’t. Now she would look like a doll. Oh well. There were worse fates than having red cheeks and shining eyes.
She’d come into town to pick up hardware items for her dad. The cold snap was making his knees ache and he hadn’t been up to the drive.
Ahead of her on the sidewalk was a wrought-iron bench and on it was Marshall Stone, absorbed in a newspaper that he held in gloved hands, his collar turned up against the cold and his Stetson pulled down to block the sun.
He didn’t hear her coming. Annie stopped in front of him and he finally looked up.
“Hello. Haven’t seen you in a few days.” Annie kept her tone casual. Where he went and what he did really were none of her concern. Exactly why he was sitting on a bench outside the town laundromat wasn’t, either. But she asked anyway. “What are you doing here?”
