Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  She chuckled. "Cash would love it."

  "Great! We'll see you Saturday at one, then."

  He hung up and she ground her teeth together. She knew Cash would go if she asked him, but it wasn't going to make things easier with Judd. Still, if there was any hope of pulling their op­eration out of the red, this was it. It was like a gift from heaven.

  She dialed Judd's number before she got cold feet. It rang several times, and she was about to hang up when she heard his deep voice on the other end.

  "We've got a marketing opportunity," she said quickly.

  There was a pause. "What sort?"

  She outlined the Harts' deal, and the profit to be made, and then waited for him to answer.

  "I don't speak Japanese," he began.

  "Neither do I. But they have translators," she added, mentally praying that she wouldn't have to mention Cash and have him blow up in her face again.

  He made a rough sound. "Grier speaks it fluently. We might take him along and let him translate. If you can talk him into it," he added with thinly veiled sarcasm.

  "The Harts already did," she prevaricated. "They want to make sure they understand all the details."

  "Oh." He seemed to relax. There was another pause. "About dinner," he said slowly. "I didn't mean to jump down your throat like that."

  He never apologized. This was as close as he was ever likely to come. She smiled to herself. "Me, too," she said stiffly. "Happy Thanksgiving."

  "Yeah." There was another pause. "Would you marry Grier?"

  Her heart jumped. "Excuse me?"

  "If he asked."

  She couldn't make her mind work. The question was com­pletely out of left field.

  "Forget it," he said abruptly, when she hesitated. "It's none of my business, once the annulment goes through. I'll see you about twelve-thirty Saturday."

  "Okay, I'll be..."

  He hung up.

  She glared at the phone and put it down. He was the most ex­asperating man she'd ever known. But at least they were speak­ing again.

  * * *

  Grier agreed readily to accompany them, but he went in his own vehicle. Judd drove Christabel over to the sprawling Hart ranch in his SUV. He was wearing his work clothes, to her surprise.

  "I'm on a case," he told her. "I asked off just long enough to do this, but I have to go right back."

  "Another murder?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "The same one. We think we may have a lead. There was a witness who saw a suspicious truck hanging around outside the woman's house."

  "Did she live in town, in Victoria? "

  He shook his head. "She and her husband had a little ranch outside the city limits. We're trying to find out if the Clark broth­ers ever worked for them."

  "I wouldn't be surprised if they were involved somehow," she said.

  He scowled intently. "Don't mention this new development to anyone else. Period."

  She wanted to tell Grier, but that look was intimidating. "Okay. Nobody else. Right."

  He turned his attention back to the road. "Things may be looking up after all."

  "If we can make this deal, they certainly will," she replied. "Imagine a price like that for exporting our beef to another country, when we can't even give it away here!"

  "It's a minor miracle, and we needed one."

  She almost bit her lip through not agreeing with him. The ring he'd bought Tippy was eating into the very marrow of her bones. The lack of operating capital was a real threat, and Judd had compromised the ranch with that sparkly gift. He had to know it, without being told.

  "Rey says these gentlemen are very nice, and honorable busi­nessmen," she added before he had time to wonder at her silence.

  "He'd know. The Harts are savvy businessmen. They know a good deal when they see one." He glanced at her curiously. "Did Rey call you?"

  She shook her head. "I'd heard these businessmen were going to be out at their ranch, hoping to buy organic beef. It seemed the right thing to phone the Harts and ask if we could get in on their deal." She flushed. "I didn't think about how pushy it sounds until just now."

  "It sounds like competent business thinking. If I had fewer murders to contend with, I might have thought of it myself." He changed the subject. "Have you heard from Joel Harper about when the film crew's coming back?"

  "Yes. He said they'd be back December 4," she replied tersely.

  His black eyes met hers before they went back to the road. "Christmas will be here before we know it," he remarked, think­ing about the pretty pearl necklace and stud earring set he'd bought her for a combination late birthday and Christmas pres­ent. It was pure gold with pink pearls, her favorites. She was going to love it.

  She stared out the window. "So it will." She was wondering if the beautiful supermodel had plans for him that would include that holiday. But she couldn't afford to let him know her wor­ries. He didn't want her. She wasn't throwing herself at him.

  He pulled up at the Hart ranch office building and cut off the engine. She jumped down from her side just as Cash pulled up next to them in his pickup truck. He was in uniform, obviously working today.

  "I hear I'm in demand as a translator," he teased Crissy.

  She grinned back at him. "You just translate us a good deal, and I'll recommend you to anybody you like."

  He chuckled.

  Judd turned away from both of them and went toward the of­fice.

  The Japanese corporation executives were charming and highly intelligent. Both of them spoke English, although the nu­ances of idiom and Texas drawl were formidable opponents of real understanding.

  Cash spoke the language with a fluency that brought delighted smiles from the Japanese, even from their two translators. He seemed right at home, down to the custom of bowing instead of shaking hands, and knowing exactly how to phrase questions without offending.

  "Mr. Kosugi would like both of you to be his guests in Osaka in January," Cash told Christabel and Judd. "If you agree, he'll assign one of his staff to help you with arrangements, meet you at the airport, and conduct you around Osaka. When you see his facilities, and meet his family and staff, you'll sign a formal agreement."

  Judd scowled. 'That's an expensive trip, Cash," he began.

  "This is our, how do you say it, treat," Mr. Kosugi told them with a smile. "It is the way we do business."

  Judd was still scowling. "I work in law enforcement," he began.

  "Yes, you are Texas Ranger," the older gentleman said excit­edly. "We read about you Rangers, and watch American movies of Texas."

  Judd smiled. "Yes. So I can't accept gifts."

  "You can make me a gift of two tickets," Christabel said eas­ily. "I will take him with me to Japan."

  "Christabel," Judd began.

  She drew him to one side and glared up at him. "We're still mar­ried, for the moment," she said forcefully. "What I own, you own. If I get two tickets, I can give one to anyone I like, which includes you. Even your boss can't complain if your wife gives you a pres­ent. All you have to do is ask for personal time off, to go with me."

  He hesitated. He glanced at Grier, who was watching with great interest. It occurred to him that Grier would be an even bet­ter travel companion for her, because he also spoke Japanese. His eyes began to burn. He looked down at her. "All right. I don't like it, but I'll do it."

  "It isn't as if Mr. Kosugi is going to ask you to rob a bank for him or do personal favors for him, either," she pointed out. "This is ranch business, Judd. And if we don't go, there isn't going to be a ranch for much longer."

  He couldn't argue with that. He wanted to, but she was right. He hated the thought of giving up his uncle's legacy and her birthright because he was too stubborn to admit she was right. Neither could he admit that his extravagance had hurt them even more.

  "I'll go," he said heavily. "But," he added firmly, "I'm going to tell my boss the circumstances first."

  She smiled softly. "I can't imagine you being
less than hon­est with anyone," she replied.

  His heavy brows drew together. "I haven't been honest with you," he said slowly.

  Her cheeks flushed. She averted her face and all the old bit­terness came back. "Your private life isn't my concern anymore, Judd. Let's just concentrate on the ranch."

  She turned and went back to the others before he could say another word.

  The weekend, and the following week, came and went, and in no time, the film crew was back. Crissy glared at Tippy Moore for all she was worth when she got home from school, especially when Judd showed up at the end of the first day of filming to drive Tippy to her hotel. It was the same old thing, all over again, just when Crissy had hoped that she and Judd were finally starting over, with the Japanese deal. Fat chance, with the Geor­gia Firefly on the job. She was still wearing the damned ring, too.

  Crissy threw herself into her studies and tried to ignore what was going on around her. She began to feel that the movie people were going to live with them forever, and her nerves were wearing thin.

  Cash came by early one Monday morning a couple of weeks into filming, and the crew was just breaking for coffee and doughnuts when he pulled up in front of the house.

  Cash was in uniform and he looked somber. Crissy's class for that day had been cancelled, and she was at home, trying not to get in the way. She went to meet him. She was in jeans and a sweatshirt, with her hair in a neat braid at her back.

  "This is a pleasant surprise," she told him with a smile. "What's up?"

  "Nothing earthshaking, but I need to talk to you." He drew her over to one side. "Have you heard what happened Saturday night?"

  "No," she said, surprised. "I didn't go to school today because my teacher was sick, so I've been isolated from any news."

  "It seems that Jack Clark made a pass at Janie Brewster out at Shea's Bar and Roadhouse, and knocked her around. He threatened her with a knife as well. I've got him in jail."

  "Poor Janie," she said, shocked. "But how lucky for her that he's locked up. Lucky for me, too." She sensed there was more. "Who arrested him?"

  "I did," he confessed, "after Leo Hart and Harley Fowler both had a go at him. The man is a martial artist, very competent. I used tricks I'd almost forgotten taking him down."

  She was still savoring the news. She'd been a little afraid of Jack Clark. Now, she was safe. So was poor Janie.

  "His brother John came down late last night to visit him in jail. He promised to get him a good attorney." He sighed. "He's going to have a little trouble with that. It seems he may lose his job in Victoria. God knows where he thinks he'll get the money for a trial lawyer."

  "You look very worried," she pointed out. She moved closer, wary of the redheaded supermodel hovering nearby. "What is it, Cash?"

  He rested his hand on the handle of his .45 automatic in its holster on his duty belt. "Crissy, John Clark has a friend who drives a black pickup truck with a red stripe."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It took a minute for the statement to sink in. Her breath sighed out roughly. "That's the truck old Hob saw near my cut fence," she recalled.

  He nodded. "I just told Judd. That truck has been the missing link. We knew it had a connection, but we couldn't find it. Ap­parently it doesn't belong to Clark at all. It belongs to a buddy of his on the ranch he's working at, outside Victoria, a man named Gould."

  "Can you arrest him? Can Judd?" she asked.

  He grimaced. "It's not that simple. We can't arrest him with­out proof. The truck is the only lead we have right now."

  "I heard Hob say what sort of truck it was," she fired back.

  "Yes, but that's only hearsay. It's not enough evidence to ar­rest a man on suspicion of murder. We have to go slowly, and see if we can find enough evidence to get a search warrant," he told her. "If he suspects a thing, he may take off like a bird, even with his brother in jail."

  She frowned and rubbed her arm with a restless hand. "Well, one Clark's off the streets for the foreseeable future. Isn't he?"

  "Janie swore out a warrant for aggravated assault," he said.

  "Harley Fowler and Leo Hart swore out assault charges as well. I got him on resisting arrest and assault on a police officer. But if his brother can get a good lawyer and he can make bond— well, it's a risk."

  "For anyone who saw that truck or knew about it," she guessed worriedly.

  "Don't look like that," Cash said huskily. "I'd never let any­thing happen to you!"

  Her eyes met his and she noticed, for the first time, the emo­tion in them that he couldn't quite hide.

  "It's the police, again!" Tippy Moore drawled from nearby, tossing her long red-gold hair for the benefit of any man in view. She smiled sarcastically at Grier. "You almost live here, don't you? Have you come to arrest somebody, or can't Miss Gaines manage a day without you in it?" she added nastily.

  Cash's dark eyes slid past Crissy to the beautiful woman just joining them. "I'm gathering information for a homicide inves­tigation. Unless you think you can solve the case, you're su­perfluous," he said curtly.

  Tippy's perfect eyebrows arched. "Who got killed?" She glanced at Crissy, deliberately lifting her left hand so that the light caught the diamonds and sparkled wildly. "Someone Miss Gaines knows?"

  "Certainly nobody you know," he replied flatly. "I'm pressed for time."

  "Heavens, you don't think I'm trying to detain you?" she scoffed. Her eyes gave him a once-over that was just short of an insult. "I told her to tell you, you're not my type!"

  His dark eyes narrowed on her face. Crissy thought she'd never seen eyes that cold. "A compliment, surely," he replied softly. He even smiled. "My taste doesn't run to your sort of woman, Miss Moore. I don't have to pay women to go out with me."

  Tippy Moore's face burned red. She glared at him. "I'm no call girl," she managed to get out. "But if I were, buster, there wouldn't be enough money in the world to get you in my bed!"

  "You've got that right!" he said icily.

  Her small hands clenched at her sides. Her hair seemed to glow. "I've turned down motion picture stars and millionaires and even princes! What makes you think I'd look twice at a hick cop like you? I've already got everything!"

  He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a look that would have eaten through rust. "What you've got, lady, is a pretty face and a passable figure. In five or six years, you won't find a fashion magazine that will even want to feature you in the advertise­ments. Then what will you do, when men who panted after you can't find enough excuses to get away from you?"

  Obviously, she'd considered that herself, because she went pale.

  "You have no apparent education, no manners, no culture, no consideration for other people. And you think a pretty face makes up for the lack of those attributes?" he asked. "Why don't you take a good look in a mirror? You're a lot less attractive to men than you think you are. And I've got your number, even if Judd Dunn hasn't yet."

  "He gave me a ring," she said through her teeth. "He's crazy about me!"

  "He's crazy, all right," he shot back. "You'd bankrupt him in two weeks and leave him bleeding on your way to a fatter wal­let. You wouldn't even look back to see if he died."

  "You know...nothing about me!" she choked.

  "I know trash when I see it," he countered with cold eyes.

  Her lower lip trembled. She looked devastated. She couldn't even manage a parting shot. She turned and walked shakily back to the set where the director was waiting, her back arrow-straight. But when she got to Joel Harper, she collapsed into his arms and cried like a child.

  Cash's lips flattened. "Theatrics," he said harshly. "That woman is a prime manipulator. Judd's out of his mind if he thinks she cares about him."

  "I know," she said sadly. But she felt oddly sorry for Tippy.

  She'd never seen the poised, sophisticated woman in such a state. She'd been upset before when Cash was rude to her, but this time, she was genuinely devastated. Cash really did seem to hate her. Crissy
wondered why his opinion was so disturbing to Tippy, when she seemed to dislike him just as much.

  "I've got to get back to the office," Cash told her gently. "Watch your back. I've made sure Nick knows to help. Don't think Clark's less dangerous in jail. I've seen men in worse trou­ble make bond."

  She sighed. "I'll keep my pistol handy. You be careful, too," she said with genuine concern.

  He shrugged. "I've survived worse than the Clark boys," he said, and smiled. "See you later."

  "Sure."

  He walked off without another glance in Tippy's direction. But even with the competition the other woman gave her for Judd's attention, she couldn't help but feel bad for her. Cash had been brutal, and obviously his opinion mattered to the beauti­ful supermodel. Those tears had been real, even if Cash didn't think so.

  While the crew took a break, to give Tippy time for the makeup artist to repair the damage tears had done to her face, Crissy waited outside the trailer until the older woman emerged.

  "What do you want, to gloat?" Tippy asked bitingly.

  "A model broke up his parents' marriage," Crissy told her qui­etly. "That doesn't excuse the way he is, but it helps explain it. He was in grammar school, and he loved his mother."

  She started to walk away, but a soft hand touched her shoul­der lightly, just distinguishable enough to stop her.

  "I've been a bitch to you," the model said solemnly. "Why should you care if he cuts me up? In fact, what would you know about the real world, with your sheltered background?" she added bitterly.

  Crissy met the beautiful green eyes evenly. "Do you think I live in some fairy-tale world of happy endings and perfect harmony? My father got drunk and almost killed me. My mother died. Judd and Maude are all I have in the world."

  She turned away and this time she didn't stop. She probably shouldn't have told Tippy that, but what Cash said was cruel. He'd never apologize, with his history. Funny, she pondered, that she cared about seeing the model in tears. She'd done nothing but give Crissy hell, and taken Judd away to boot. But Judd cared about the dreadful woman, and there was no way Crissy would ever be able to hurt someone Judd loved.

  Behind her, the older woman stood frozen, rigid, hating the compassion in that soft voice, the understanding behind it. She'd thought that little Christabel Gaines had the perfect childhood. It was a shock to learn the truth, and it made her feel guilty. She looked at the expensive ring on her finger and measured it against Christabel's ragged jeans and worn old boots. She went back toward the set with her pride around her ankles. She'd never thought of herself as a cruel woman before. It was just that Judd made her feel safe and he was overly protective of his little ranch partner, Miss Gaines. She couldn't give him up. She couldn't! He was all that stood between her and men who were dangerous to her. Men like Gary Mays, the assistant director and—most of all—Cash Grier. Despite Crissy's compassion, they were rivals for the same man. And it was true, that all was fair in love and war.