Above It All (Eureka, Colorado Book 4) (Contemporary Romance)

by Cindy Myers

  “Yes, but I certainly didn’t know this about her. I’m still not sure I believe him. If it’s true, why has Shelly kept it a secret?”

  “She’s a private person. Or maybe she’s trying to avoid being hassled by people like Travis Rowell. Guys like him give journalists a bad name.”

  Cassie made her sour lemon face again. “He made me believe he was here to write a story about the Founders’ Pageant.”

  “For the Dallas Morning News?”

  “Well, certainly not for the Enquirer.”

  “Why would people in Dallas be interested in anything going on in Eureka, Colorado?” Maggie asked.

  Cassie sat forward on her chair, back rigid. “What happened here in Eureka is historically significant, not only for Colorado but for the country. Towns don’t just spring up unassisted, you know. My ancestors made a vital contribution and . . .”

  Maggie closed her eyes. Cassie was off and running now. She should have known better than to stir her up. “I get it, Cassie,” she interrupted. “But setting that aside for a moment, how are we going to keep this Rowell character from hassling Shelly?”

  “I really don’t see that as our responsibility. If she couldn’t even trust us enough to confide in us, I don’t think we owe her any special consideration.”

  “She’s a friend. And friends look out for each other.” Though Maggie wasn’t sure Cassie had any real friends. But if she made more of an effort to help others, that could change.

  “Maybe she should give him what he wants. Talk to him and he’ll leave her alone. Besides, it could be a good thing for the town, to have it known that Baby Shelly is living here.”

  Maggie stared at her, trying to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to send the librarian off on another rant but honestly, was Cassie crazy? “How do you figure that?” she asked.

  “Tourists would come to see her. We could even find a way to incorporate her story into the Founders’ Pageant. Make it a draw.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’d take advantage of that poor woman to make a buck.”

  She bowed up again, indignant. “I despise a mercenary mentality, but no one is more loyal to Eureka than I am. I have accepted that a certain amount of pandering to outsiders is necessary to keep the community coffers full. And since Shelly already lives here . . .”

  “It’s a horrible idea, Cassie. Don’t do it.”

  The librarian rose. “Don’t try to tell me what to do.”

  “Shelly won’t cooperate with you.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She turned and left, the heels of her sensible shoes striking the wood floor with an almost military cadence.

  Now Maggie absolutely had to talk to Shelly, and warn her not only about Travis, but about Cassie as well. She picked up the phone again, but she hadn’t punched in the first number before the door opened again and private detective Duke Breman stepped in. “Hello, Maggie,” he said.

  “Hello, Mr. Breman.” She laid the phone on the desk and busied herself straightening the papers in her in-box. His direct gaze—not to mention his movie-star good looks—unnerved her.

  “I wanted to look through your archives,” he said. “I’m interested in any articles you might have written about Gerald Pershing.”

  “We never did a feature on him, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said.

  “I want to see anything that mentions him.”

  “His name probably comes up in some of the articles about town council meetings,” she said. “When he proposed the town invest with his company, and later, when he was half-owner of the Lucky Lady Mine. And of course, there were plenty of articles when he was trapped in the mine after the explosion.”

  “I want to see all of them.”

  Maggie checked the clock. It was almost five. “I have to leave in a few minutes. You can come back tomorrow, or you can go to the library. They keep the last year or so of papers in their stacks, and they’re open until six.”

  He made a face. “I’ll come back here tomorrow. I’d rather not have to deal with that librarian.”

  She laughed, amused that a big, tough guy like Duke could be cowed by the town curmudgeon. “Cassie’s bark is a lot worse than her bite.”

  “I’ll check back with you in the morning.”

  He started to leave when an idea struck her. “Have you met a man here in town, Travis Rowell?” she asked. “He showed up about the same time you did, says he’s a reporter for the Dallas Morning News.”

  Duke shook his head. “I haven’t met him. Why? Is he asking about Gerald Pershing also?”

  “No. He wants to know about Shelly Frazier, the bank teller.”

  Duke’s expression remained blank. “I only want to know about Pershing.”

  “I just thought you might have met up with him, seeing as how you’re both from Texas.”

  “It’s a big state.”

  Well, it had probably been a crazy idea, anyway, thinking the two strangers were linked. “If you do find out where Gerald went, punch him once for me,” she said.

  “I’ll add you to the list.” He turned away again, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. “What can you tell me about Lucille Theriot?” he asked.

  Maggie bit back a groan. What was it with these nosy strangers, asking about her friends? “Lucille is very nice. She’s smart and funny and a good friend. If you want gossip about her, you won’t get it from me.”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t looking for gossip. I’m having dinner with her tonight and I wanted to know what to expect.”

  “I guess you’ll have to show up and find out.”

  By the time he had left and Maggie finally made her phone call to the bank, it was after five and they were closed. She debated trying to find Shelly’s home number, but decided it would be better to wait until the next day and talk to her in person. Besides, she needed to get home and start supper. She and Jameso had a rare night home together, and she didn’t want to miss it.

  She shut down her computer and was gathering her purse to leave when the door opened once more and Jameso entered, Angela in his arms.

  Maggie’s heart beat a little faster and she caught her breath at the sight of father and daughter—her family. She still wanted to pinch herself sometimes, knowing her life had taken an exceptionally lucky turn when she’d come to Eureka. She’d arrived in town, a broke, unemployed new divorcée and ended up married to the handsomest guy in town, with the baby she’d always wanted but thought she’d never have.

  “Hello there.” She moved out from behind the desk and kissed first Jameso, then Angela. “What a nice surprise. Did you come to walk me home?” Tonight was his night off from the Dirty Sally, a night when they could eat dinner as a family and go to bed at the same time, something she always looked forward to. “If you’re very good, I’ll let you carry my books.”

  “And kiss you behind the lilac bushes?” He shook his head. “Sorry, but I’ll have to pass. I promised D. J. and Josh I’d help them with something.”

  “Help them with what?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He deposited Angela’s diaper bag on her desk. “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “What about dinner?” she asked, dismay and confusion warring.

  “We’re just going to grab something.”

  “I meant what about dinner for us? This is one of the few nights a week we have together and I was really looking forward to it.”

  “Sorry. I promised the guys.”

  What about me? she wanted to whine, but he’d already left.

  She cradled the baby to her shoulder and watched him leave, a tall, long-legged figure striding down the street away from her. While she’d been looking forward to an evening surrounded by family, he apparently couldn’t wait for an excuse to get away. After only three months, were marriage and fatherhood wearing on him?

  When they’d met, Jameso had been a restless figure on a fast motorcycle, a man with a reputation as a fighter and a womanizer and a rog
ue, a younger version of her father, Jameso’s best friend. She’d immediately pegged him as not relationship material, but hormones—and maybe fate—had pushed them together. She had dared to hope love had changed him, but really, wasn’t that the stuff of fairy tales and romance novels?

  Jameso was Jameso, and she ought to love him in spite of, or even because of, his flaws and foibles. But if it was true that people didn’t really change their basic natures, for love or any other reason, then Jameso would always be the irresponsible playboy he’d been when they met, and she’d always be the fatherless divorcée who had trouble trusting men. It didn’t seem the best pairing in the world, or one designed to foster the happily ever after she’d spent years longing for.

  Chapter 6

  This is not a date. Lucille sipped from her water glass, then set it precisely in the middle of the coaster on the table in front of her in the booth in the Last Dollar Café. She avoided staring toward the door, aware that the handful of locals in the restaurant—and maybe even some of the tourists—were watching her. Monday evenings were not the busiest time in the restaurant, but why had she told Duke Breman she’d meet him here? She’d put him off as long as she could, but the man was nothing if not persistent. She should have insisted they talk at the shop, during regular business hours. Dinner together was too much like a date.

  Even though it wasn’t.

  The door opened and she jerked her head up in time to see the private detective enter the restaurant. He nodded to the owner, Danielle, then indicated that he’d be joining Lucille, though he hadn’t looked directly at her yet. Had he scoped out her location from the sidewalk? She pressed her palms flat on the table to keep from fidgeting as he made his way to the booth.

  “Hello, Lucille.” His voice was a deep rumble that vibrated through her. So much for thinking she could treat this as a normal business meeting. Every nerve in her body was fluttering, reminding her she was a woman and this was the sexiest man to hit town in a good while. He slid into the booth across from her. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

  “I’m one of those people who shows up everywhere early,” she said. At least she sounded calm.

  “That shows you’re very responsible and conscientious. Good qualities in a mayor.”

  She supposed she ought to be reassured he was thinking of her as merely a politician, but the disappointment left a bitter taste in her mouth. She took another drink of water. “Did you have some questions for me? Though I’m not sure I’ll be much help to you.”

  “Let’s order dinner first. Then we can talk.”

  As if she’d been waiting for her cue, Janelle, the other owner of the café, glided forward. Tall and lithe, she wore a pink bandana twisted in her short blond hair, and a T-shirt that depicted a trio of kittens. “What can I get for you two?” she asked, her German accent making even these words sound exotic. “Today’s special is pork chops and mashed potatoes. We also have a very good vegetable lasagna.”

  “I’ll have the pork.” Duke handed over his menu. “And iced tea.”

  “The lasagna, and a side salad with ranch. No onions.”

  “No onions.” Janelle winked. “Will do.”

  Lucille bit back a groan. Janelle wasn’t known as a gossip, but all it would take would be the wrong person overhearing her order to decide that the mayor had plans for a hot and intimate evening with the newest handsome stranger in town. After all, she had a history . . .

  “Everyone tells me if I want to know about Gerald Pershing, I should talk to you,” Duke said. “That you knew him best.”

  “Everyone says that, do they?”

  “Word is you had an affair with him.”

  Well, it wasn’t as if that was a big secret considering how she’d made such a fool of herself over him. She took another sip of water, wondering if she should excuse herself to go to the ladies’ room and gather her composure. But no, she was almost used to talking about the sordid events now. “I’m not sure ‘affair’ is the right word. We went out a couple of times and slept together one night. When I woke the next morning, he was gone, and most of the town’s money with him. I was seduced and swindled. The first time he met me, he must have seen ‘sucker’ written in large letters on my forehead.”

  “Or perhaps he saw an attractive, interesting woman whose company he could enjoy, while still achieving his goal of getting money from the town.”

  Oh, he was a smooth talker. But she was too old for such flattery. “That still makes me a sucker.”

  “Yet he came back to Eureka, a few months after he left.”

  She nodded. “Yes, he did. He said he wanted to make things up to me, but I’m sure he was merely looking for another easy target.”

  “You sold him shares in the Lucky Lady Mine.”

  “The town had taken the mine in lieu of back taxes. We sold him shares we thought were worthless. But they turned out not to be.”

  Danielle delivered his tea and he stirred sugar into it. “Good thing for the town’s economy.”

  “Good and bad. Now we were partners with a man we all despised.”

  He instantly became more alert, like a dog on point. “All of you? Or you most of all?”

  “I think it’s safe to say there was no love lost between Gerald Pershing and anyone in this town. As half-owner of the mine, he had a say in its operations, and he took every opportunity to make things difficult. No one was sorry to see him go.”

  “Why did he go?”

  “He didn’t confide in any of us that I know of. He just left. Maybe after being trapped five days in a collapsed mine tunnel, he’d had enough.”

  “That would be the kind of experience that could make a man question his actions in life,” Duke said. “But the timing seems odd. He didn’t even stay around long enough to recover from that ordeal.”

  “He wanted to be away from us, I guess.”

  “Yet he did transfer his interest in the mine to the manager, Bob Prescott.”

  “They were trapped together all that time. Maybe he felt he owed Bob. I don’t know.”

  “I tried to set up a meeting with Prescott, but he’s put me off. Maybe you could put in a good word for me.”

  She laughed. “Bob doesn’t take advice from anyone. If you want to talk to him, buy him a few beers at the Dirty Sally. When he’s lubricated enough, he might change his mind about you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyone else I should talk to while I’m here? Someone he might have confided in?”

  “I thought I’d made it clear Gerald didn’t make friends while he was here.”

  He shrugged. “My job is to keep asking questions. Sometimes I get answers that lead to solutions.”

  “I’ve tried to answer your questions—now I have a few of my own.” All this talk about Gerald’s nefarious deeds had definitely made her less nervous around the detective. “Why are you so interested in finding Gerald?”

  “My client is paying me well to do so. And apart from the money, my reputation depends on me doing a good job.”

  “Who’s your client?”

  He shook his head. “That information is confidential.”

  “Then tell me why your client is so interested in tracking him down? Did he swindle someone else?”

  “I can’t tell you that, either, but if I did, I promise the answer would surprise you.”

  Danielle delivered their plates, steam rising from the lasagna in fragrant waves. Duke picked up his fork and eyed his pork chops approvingly. “I’ve eaten almost every meal here since I got to town, and every one has been excellent.”

  “We’re lucky to have Janelle and Danielle. They could probably make a lot more money in a big city, but they like it here.”

  “Did Gerald eat here often?”

  “I’m sure he did, but I doubt if he revealed where he was headed when he left here in between bites of a morning omelet and fried potatoes.”

  “You never know. Are you sure he didn’t drop any hints to you? People get careless d
uring pillow talk.”

  “We weren’t talking that night.” She felt her face heat. Say what she would about the man, he’d been very, um, thorough in bed. She hadn’t had the breath—or any interest—in conversation.

  He sliced off a piece of pork and chewed thoughtfully. She concentrated on her lasagna, but was aware of his eyes on her. What did he see? Was he wondering what Gerald had seen in a fiftysomething longtime divorcée who was tall and lanky and plain—not anyone’s idea of a femme fatale?

  “Let me run another idea by you,” he said after a moment. “What if Pershing never left town?”

  She blinked, and hastily swallowed a bite of pasta. “You mean, what if he’s hiding out in the hills or something? I suppose anything is possible, but Eureka is a small place, and I doubt he’d be able to keep that kind of thing secret for long.”

  “I’m not talking hiding. What if someone did away with him before he left town?”

  “Murder!” The word came out as a yelp, and half a dozen heads turned in their direction. She lowered her voice and leaned toward him. “That’s crazy.”

  “You said everyone in town hated him.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’d murder him. And why would they? He signed over his shares in the mine and said he wanted to leave. Why bother trying to stop him?”

  “He left and came back once before. Maybe someone wanted a more permanent solution.”

  She laid down her fork, suddenly sick to her stomach. “I can’t believe anyone I know would do such a thing.”

  “You might be surprised at what people will do. Maybe the murderer even did it to protect you.”

  “Me?” She stared, unable to breathe.

  “Most of the people I’ve talked to have a fairly high opinion of you. They all talk about how Pershing embarrassed you. One of them might have decided to solve the problem by doing away with him altogether.”

  The idea was horrifying. Yet fascinating, too. “If someone killed him, what did they do with the body?”

  “Stuffed it down an abandoned mine shaft. Tossed it over a cliff. I imagine there are a million places you could lose a body around here.”

  “In that case, you might never find him.”