Diamond Legacy

by Monica McCabe

  “That’s not true!” Miranda denied.

  “Hank don’t count.” Jason gave up his battle with Roz, handed her the muffin, and set her down on the floor. “That guy doesn’t have enough fire to light a match.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Come on, it’s not rocket science. Hank is so subdued he’d put a sloth to sleep. Besides, I have foolproof radar in gauging another’s love meter.”

  “Love meter?” Letta giggled. “What is this?”

  “Don’t laugh,” Jason said, “it’s a handy talent. I watch people, their body language, and style. It’s what makes me a good matchmaker.”

  Letta went back to folding towels, but her glance was disbelieving. “Pardon me for saying so, but I find this hard to believe.”

  Miranda agreed. Jason always harped at her about the sorry state of her dating life, but she assumed it was just part of his natural bluster and ignored it.

  “It’s true.” Jason began helping Letta fold towels. “Take Roz, for instance. She’s a classic charmer. No one can resist her, and she knows it.”

  In perfect timing to illustrate his point, Roz chirped with glee over her prize. She sniffed the muffin and rolled her lips back in a contented smile before tearing off a chunk and stuffing it in her mouth.

  “See what I mean?” Jason continued. “Yet our dear Roz has ulterior motives. She uses her charm to steal you blind. Her advantage is she’s irresistible, so you don’t seem to care.”

  Miranda angled her head at Letta. “He scored a point there.”

  Letta shrugged. “So his love meter works with monkeys.” She lifted a folded stack of towels and stored them in a cabinet. “People are more difficult.”

  “Not really. Let’s take you for example.” Jason handed her another stack to put away. “You’re friendly, sensitive, and a touch impulsive. Others may see you as accident prone, but I see enthusiasm and passion. Any man would be lucky to spark with you.”

  Letta’s eyes rounded in surprise, an action Miranda repeated. It appeared time to reassess everything she’d previously believed about Jason.

  “And you,” he said, pointing an accusing finger her way, “lighten up on yourself. You take everything much too serious. It wouldn’t hurt to cut loose once in a while.”

  Her annoyance returned at the suggestion. She’d cut loose last night and look where that had gotten her. She’d helped Matt’s investigation, saved his ungrateful hide from a major bruising, and then gloriously drowned in his lovemaking under a starlit sky. All that served to spark was an argument. And being unceremoniously dumped back at the lodge.

  So much for Jason’s intuition.

  He was right about Letta, but he was wrong about what she needed from Matt. A good time was fleeting, and not what she wanted. Unfortunately, Matt was in no position to offer anything else.

  Leave things alone, Matt had said. Stay out of danger. Well, he was mistaken if he expected her to blindly comply with those commands. Miranda straightened her backbone. She wasn’t the type to sit idly by when there was work to be done.

  “A good time.” Miranda fell back on her take-charge attitude. “That’s excellent advice, Jason. In fact, let’s do it tonight.”

  Jason’s eyebrows shot skyward, and Letta fanned her face in shock.

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, you two. All I’m saying is that I missed out the last time you went to paint the town. How about we go out tonight and visit some local spots?”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Jason wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “For a minute I thought you were proposing something indecent.”

  Miranda frowned, and Letta laughed out loud.

  “Oh, this will be great fun,” Letta said. “You in, Jason?”

  “I’m always in.” His smile looked suspiciously satisfied. “Any place in mind?”

  Both of them looked straight at Miranda. “There’s a place downtown I’m curious about, Half Jacks. Do you know of it, Letta?”

  Her friend pursed her lips a moment, then nodded her head. “I think so. I believe it’s a favorite of government types and businessmen.”

  “Excellent. It’s settled, then.” Miranda smiled wide. “Us three amigos, tonight, at Half Jacks.”

  Things were beginning to look up after all.

  * * * *

  Matt parked the Rover a couple blocks down from Half Jacks and leaned back in his seat, scouting the bodies moving up and down the street. His mind only half on the job, the other half strayed to his newest obsession, Miranda. He shook his head and inhaled deep, holding it before releasing in a long, slow exhale, a well-practiced technique that always worked to switch his brain into detective mode.

  Not this time. Try as he might, shifting his mind off last night proved impossible. All day he’d constantly found himself thinking of Miranda, seeking her out, then avoiding her. He struggled to focus on the job and not the temptation she offered, yet the memory of how she’d responded to his touch had ruined his concentration completely.

  Last night he’d been disoriented, burning with need. He wanted her again today, slower, with a thoroughness that would take hours. It was all he could think of, and that didn’t bode well. If he had half a brain, he’d stop the insanity right now, walk away, eliminate the complications.

  Only it was far too late for setting unrealistic goals. Keeping a safe distance from her wasn’t happening. He wanted her too badly. In fact, he’d much rather be spending tonight exploring every sultry curve she owned instead of exploring the prospects at Half Jacks.

  Reaching into the glove box, Matt grabbed a small derringer and strapped it to his ankle, insurance for trekking downtown after dark. With one last look around, he slid out of the Rover.

  Night settled into the nooks and crannies as the city shifted from hustling workday to a slower evening tempo. The crowd changed, too. Business suits thinned out to leave those seeking pleasure or oblivion.

  Both could be had for a price down here any night of the week.

  Matt shook the tension out of his clenched fists and looked forward to downing a cold beer. He needed to clear his head and extinguish both the inflamed lust and white hot anger that alternately seared his nerve endings all day. In a perverse way, he’d half hoped Graham played the fool today and called out Matt’s cover. At least then, he could’ve expelled anger by pounding a few bruises into the lying pig. And in the process, he’d get the name of the murdering bastard buying guns at Glory Hill.

  Matt felt ridiculously disappointed it hadn’t happened. Not once had Graham indicated he knew who’d spied on his band of thugs last night. Given his double life, he was no doubt superb at lying. Odds were far better that Graham just took his time, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

  Matt needed to heat this investigation up a notch. The balance of a major bust took precision timing, and he intended this net to be wide. He must be exact. Right on target. Maintaining focus was more important than ever before. And that meant spending less time chasing Miranda and more time chasing bad guys.

  Easier said than done.

  The woman insisted on helping him win the war. In fact, odds were far better for an asteroid strike than her leaving the investigation to the professionals. And staying away from Miranda so he could concentrate on the job only caused stress-induced worry over the trouble she could find playing amateur detective.

  All of it was enough to drive him to drink. Matt pushed open the doors of Half Jacks and stepped inside the darkened bar.

  It was a busy Friday night, and the place was filled to near capacity. Amid the dim lights and careless chatter, Matt twisted his way to the bar and ordered a beer.

  A bartender sporting more buttons and pins on his vest than a veteran soldier slid over a bottle of Bushwakker Pale Ale. “That’d be eight pula, brah.”

  Matt tossed the money on the wooden bar before taking a healthy swig to wash away the day’s dust. He heaved a sigh of sa
tisfaction and turned around to lean against the chipped and worn rail, his gaze traveling the room with practiced nonchalance.

  On the surface, all appeared normal. African Zulu music was piped in from speakers mounted high in the corners, white-collar businessmen in rolled-up sleeves drank beer and laughed with colleagues, Miranda played a game of pool at the tables, and a crowd of young—

  His gaze shot back to the pool tables. What the hell?

  Unbelievable! What did she think she was doing? As she sank a ball with her pool cue, smiling in delight at some tall nerdy-looking punk, jealousy burned the edges of Matt’s vision. She rounded the table for a different angle and bent over to line up another shot. When the punk took a step back to ogle Miranda’s ass, Matt clenched his fist with an urge to punch the creep’s face in.

  He’d traveled halfway across the bar before training kicked him upside the head. He slowed his pace and made himself take in the scene with deeper detail.

  Miranda wasn’t alone. Jason and Letta sat at a nearby table. At least she had sense enough to bring reinforcements. Jason twirled a pool cue in his hands as he and Letta chatted, and when Matt approached, Jason glanced up in surprise. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Yeah, funny isn’t it?” Matt stared straight at Miranda when he said it.

  She looked up from the pool table and a split-second wariness crossed her face, quickly masked. Likely no one but himself had recognized it.

  “Why, Matt. How nice to see you here.” A bright smile accompanied her words. She turned and laid a hand on the punk’s arm, pulling him around the pool table. “It must be Katanga night at Half Jacks. Meet Neil Vernel. Turns out Neil occasionally volunteers at the center. How crazy is it that we meet here instead?”

  She gave him a pointed look and, despite Matt’s anger, he picked up the signal. She was fishing and had Neil on the hook. Which only made him madder. He specifically told her to stay out of the investigation. And yet here she was, placing herself in possible danger. As soon as he got her alone, he was going to kill her.

  “An astonishing coincidence.” Matt reached over and shook the punk’s hand, squeezing just a little too hard. “Appears you’re having a bit of fun with the lady.”

  Neil’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced from Matt to Miranda.

  “No problem, brah,” Neil said to Matt, “didn’t realize the territory had a claim.”

  “Let’s just call it protected.”

  “Right. No harm done then.”

  “Excuse me, gentleman.” Miranda was frowning. “I’m not certain what just happened here”—she waggled a finger between him and Neil—“but we are in the middle of a game. And I’m winning.”

  “By all means.” Matt waved a hand for them to continue and pulled out a chair to join Jason and Letta.

  “Nice move, man.” Jason smirked with a knowing grin. “I’m certain it went over well with the doc.”

  Matt quirked an irritated brow at Jason but didn’t respond. Instead, he took another drink of the beer he’d forgotten he held and kept a close eye on the game going on at the pool table.

  And he didn’t mean billiards. Neil had to be the same chap from the stable incident. Miranda kept a steady flow of conversation going, asking questions with guileless charm and a smile that blinded.

  The sucker didn’t stand a chance. Hell, he didn’t either for that matter.

  Ten minutes later, the game ended in victory for Miranda as she sank the eight ball. With a whoop of delight, she and a grinning Neil clapped hands in a celebratory high five.

  Matt hated it. Perhaps Neil needed a stronger warning to back off. The punk replaced his cue stick in the rack and, with a polite nod to the group, headed off to the bar.

  Miranda strolled over to the table with a smug little smile. “I won.”

  “We’re happy for you.” Matt didn’t even try to make that sound convincing. “What are you doing here?”

  Her smile disappeared. “Having a pleasant night out. Try not to spoil it, will you?”

  “Funny choice of hangouts.” Matt set his beer on the table and leaned back. “You were the last person I expected to find here.”

  “Why? You don’t think I’m capable of having fun?”

  His eyes roamed her loosely clasped hair, sleeveless shirt, and form-fitting jeans. She was fresh, wholesome, and sexy as hell. She likely drew the attention of more than just Neil. And that worried him to no end.

  “What you are capable of is what worries me. Along with your overly curious nature and penchant for trouble.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a keeper.”

  Matt stood up to better match her growing temper. “Perhaps you do. From what I’ve seen you’re prone to rash acts.”

  She snorted. “Hardly. I’d not be where I am now by making bad decisions.”

  “So it’s a recent phenomenon.” He shrugged. “One that needs to be curbed.”

  Jason and Letta were watching them, their heads swinging from one to the other as they argued, but Matt was beyond caring. Miranda drove him crazy. She had no business being here.

  “Well, if you’re volunteering for the job, forget it.” She crossed her arms and tapped the sandaled toes of her right foot. “You’re much too bossy.”

  “If you want bossy, keep risking your fool neck playing games. I’ll teach you the meaning of the word.”

  “Ah, hello you two,” Jason injected with a wave.

  He was ignored.

  “I don’t know when you got the idea that you were responsible for me,” Miranda said. “But it’s got to stop. I’ve managed to live twenty-nine years without a babysitter.”

  “Amazing, given the company you keep.”

  “Are you talking about Neil?” Miranda asked sweetly. “Because unlike you, he’s nothing but pleasant and had some interesting things to say, if you must know.”

  “That’s not all he was interested in.”

  She gasped in feminine outrage. “That is uncalled for! And so was that secret male code to establish territory!”

  “Excuse me.” Jason tried interfering again.

  Again Matt ignored him. “Have you no sense of how dangerous it is around here for an unescorted female?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Miranda said, “I’m hardly out here alone.”

  “Bloody hell, Miranda! Why won’t you listen to me?”

  “Because you are autocratic, domineering, mule-headed—”

  “Mule-headed? Me?” He took two steps closer, his anger beginning to boil. “That’s impossible. You hold the corner on that market.”

  Jason slapped his pool cue on the table, effectively snagging their attention. Both swiveled their heads his direction. “Why don’t you two just kiss and get it over with?”

  Letta choked on her drink. Miranda scowled.

  Matt staggered under the dawning realization that he’d done it again. Since he’d met Miranda, he lost control of situations with alarming frequency.

  “What are you blathering about?” Miranda asked.

  “Oh, please.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Lust is written all over you both. If it got any hotter, you’d burst into flames.”

  Dammit to hell. Matt felt like kicking himself. He could write off discovering anything useful here tonight. Everyone sitting or standing in a ten-foot radius was staring. He’d foolishly drawn attention to himself by arguing like a jealous lover. Worse yet, it was pretty damn close to the truth. Seeing her laughing with Neil triggered testosterone-induced hostility. He wanted to slam something. Mainly, Neil.

  Disgusted with his lack of control, Matt dropped into his chair with a derisive snort.

  “Listen up, both of you.” Jason settled back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “This has to stop. You’re like a couple of hissing cats and arguing won’t accomplish anything. Isn’t that right, Letta?”

  “He’s right.” Letta gave an apologetic look to Mira
nda and Matt. “I don’t understand what’s going on between you both, but sparks are flying.”

  Miranda sat down with a heavy sigh.

  “That’s better.” Jason tipped his beer bottle her direction. “If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d see this tension for what it is. And you”—he aimed his beer missile toward Matt—“need a lesson on how to handle a contrary female like the doc.”

  Matt would’ve laughed if Jason hadn’t been right. What the hell. He might as well put what’s left of tonight to good use. He might actually learn something. Besides, Miranda looked a bit disgruntled and anything that put the brakes on her was worth listening to.

  Matt scooted his chair closer to the table. “I’m in. What’ve you got?”

  “Take notes, my man. I’m about to share with you something I like to call…‘Pearls of Wisdom’ by Jason Harvick.”

  Matt signaled the waitress for another round. This was going to be interesting.

  Chapter 22

  Friday night at Half Jacks proved enlightening, if nothing else. During the last hour, Matt gained dubious insight on the convoluted method of Jason’s love theory and how it applied to people like Miranda and himself.

  Watching Miranda squirm, sputter, and scoff was the most entertainment he’d enjoyed in a long while. Jason did have surprising insight, however, and Matt actually gleaned a few useful tidbits that he filed away for future reference.

  Determined not to let the night be a complete bust as far as work was concerned, Matt kept a sharp eye on Neil. He noted every detail of his actions. The people he spoke to, what moves he made, even what beer the guy drank. All while listening to Jason and appearing nonchalant under Miranda’s eagle eye. She’d jump right into the fray if she caught a mere whiff of what he intended.

  “So, you see, my good man,” Jason spoke as though he imparted wisdom of the ages, “male and female alike instinctively cover up true feelings with layers of fine-grained sand. It’s the smart man that bides his time and filters the clues, watching for nuggets of gold to appear.”

  Miranda choked on her wine and started laughing. “Honestly, Jason. I’ve worked with you almost two years and had no idea you were such a philosopher!”