“I can’t lie. I pay my foreman’s wife extra to prepare a home-cooked meal a couple of times a week.” He turned and eased into a smile. “Yesterday afternoon I picked up some of Granny’s Special Cake for dessert. Does that count as cookin’?”
“It does in my book.” She began to set the table with the plates and flatware he’d taken out of the cupboard. “I never really learned to cook. We had kitchen help and as busy as I was in the district attorney’s office, I never found the need to learn. An In-N-Out burger was good enough for me.” The warmth of her smile echoed in her voice. “There was a little deli down the street from our office that made really good pastries. I guess that’s why I like Winnie’s so much.” She put the two plates in place. “By the way, how do you know what my favorite thing is from her bakery?”
“I stopped by and asked.” He filled two glasses with ice and added tap water.
While they waited for the casserole to cook, they sat at the table and chatted about everything from the Dallas Cowboys to one of the funniest cases Deuce had ever seen nearly go to trial in Kasota Springs.
Rainey chuckled when he was finished. “So Mrs. Grooms’s Chocolate Cake and Granny’s Special Chocolate Cake are nonproprietary? They are one in the same?” Another full-hearted laugh rippled through the air.
“Yep. Winnie said her recipe was handed down generations and Clara said the same about hers. They each wanted the other one to stop baking it. When neither budged, Clara filed suit and asked for a cease and desist order.”
“So what happened?”
“It wasn’t until they took pretrial depositions that it was discovered that the exact same recipe was in a Good Housekeeping magazine back in the fifties, so it wasn’t trademarked.”
He thought Rainey was going to fall out of her chair in sheer joy at hearing about the story. “So I can alternate days in buying their cake and get the same thing each time.” She shook her head.
“You got it.”
Her eyes grew amused and she burst out laughing once again. He joined her, happy to see she had relaxed, but at the same time knowing it was only temporary because they had to talk. He had a couple of things to fess up to her about, and no doubt she hadn’t told him everything, but he didn’t want to ruin their friendly bantering.
Rainey broke into his thoughts. “You said your mother lives nearby. Is she still in Denton or here?”
The timer on the stove beeped. Thank goodness, saved again! “Time to eat. There are hot pot holders in the top left-hand drawer next to the fridge. If you’ll put them on the table, I’ll get the casserole out.”
Deuce wasn’t ready to discuss his mother. Not yet.
Ever since his visit with the nursing home administrator, Elaine, it’d been a hard choice but he’d decided not to tell Rainey his mother’s whereabouts. Elaine was so emphatic that his mother was not to be upset and Rainey was in no shape to see his mama in her present condition.
When he thought the time was right, if he ever did, Rainey would need to be fully aware of his mama’s condition and know what to expect. He’d give her his book on Alzheimer’s disease to read.
Every night since he’d stormed out on Rainey, he’d gone to the nursing home. And every night his mama would ask if he knew her son, Deuce.
As soon as they could find a bed for her in another hospital more suited for her worsening condition, then he’d tell Rainey . . . if she was still around. He’d thought it before and now it seemed even more plausible she’d want to relocate, depending on what was in the letter. But he knew whatever was inside frightened her more than he’d ever seen.
He also needed to explain Allura because he had little doubt Rainey thought he was having an affair with her. He’d clear that up in due course, but right now he needed to keep Rainey calm, make her feel cared for, and give him time to handle the contents in the envelope with professionalism, not with his heart.
Supper was finally ready. He was glad to quit thinking and begin eating.
Deuce had seen a starved coyote tear into fresh kill, and that didn’t hold a light to the way Rainey attacked her plate of food, only stopping a couple of times to say, “This is so good, Deuce. You have no idea how hungry I was.”
It was obvious without her saying so but he agreed and enjoyed watching her eat for a change.
Once dinner was over, he helped her do the dishes by drying and putting them away. This time the small talk turned to the Los Angeles Angels. He was surprised at her knowledge of baseball.
“You know McCall Johnson’s husband, Nick Dartmouth, owns or did own a farm team out in California, but I don’t remember, if I ever knew, which one.”
Obviously recognizing the name, she spouted off the team name and kept scrubbing the casserole dish until it was immaculate. He’d told her to put things in the dishwasher, but she refused, saying that washing by hand used less water.
Deuce tossed the wet dishtowel on the counter and said, “Done. Let’s go to the living room.” He reached for two glasses and poured them half full with wine.
She grabbed the wet towel and stretched it out on the counter to dry.
Once settled on the couch, Rainey pulled her feet underneath her and accepted a glass of wine. “I have something I need to tell you and hope you won’t send me packing when you hear it.” She bit her lip and panic settled on her face. She didn’t wait for his response and rushed on. “First off, I’m furious that you investigated me, so I guess my confession isn’t exactly news to you. I’m not a widow.”
The anxious look on her face told him what he expected next.
“I’ve never even been married. I just made up a husband when you backed me into a corner wanting an explanation about my alias.”
“And you don’t think I know that.” He was amazed that she gave him such little credit.
“I never expected you to check me out. I probably wouldn’t have ever known it if Danny hadn’t spilled the beans today. I thought you trusted me more than that.”
“Trust you!” He shook his head. “What was I supposed to do?”
A sudden chill settled around them.
If she chewed on her lip any more she’d be drawing blood, but she stopped long enough to say, “You did exactly what you should have done.” She offered him a slight smile, disarming him greatly.
“Is that what you really think?”
“Yes. You wouldn’t be doing your job if you hadn’t. It just took me a little bit to come to that realization. I’m sorry for getting angry about it.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry, Deuce.”
“Then I need to come clean with you.” He wished telling her the truth included his mother’s situation, but right now this was the closest to being honest with her that he could manage. “I let you think I was involved with Allura, but I’m not. Not really.”
“Deuce, either you are involved or not. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. I waltzed into town and although I didn’t expect to find you, I did and turned around and inserted myself in your life. Whoever you are involved with is none of my business.” Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact, but as silky as one of his mama’s cashmere sweaters.
He kinda liked Rainey’s groveling, and certainly enjoyed the feel of her soft hand on his arm, but he couldn’t let his deception go on.
“Allura is a therapeutic chiropractor and I see her regularly for my shoulder injury.” He stopped to watch the surprise that washed over Rainey’s face. “The docs said I’ll always have some trouble with it and they were right.”
“I didn’t know,” she said very sheepishly.
“I wouldn’t have expected you to. I’ve been so busy that I hadn’t been keeping my appointments so she called to chew my butt out. That’s what you overheard.” He knew he shouldn’t but he enjoyed just a little how uncomfortable Rainey had become. “And I bet you never thought that the girl who gave so freely of herself in high school would grow up to be successful at freely giving of herself, huh.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at
the look on Rainey’s face.
“No. No, I didn’t. You honestly don’t want to know what I thought.” She lifted her head up and looked at the picture over the fireplace.
“I got several treatments and spent the nights at the office.”
As much as he didn’t want to address the issue, he decided he needed to read the letter. Deuce pulled to his feet and picked up the glasses. “I see your glass is empty.” He moseyed to the kitchen to get some more wine.
Once he returned, he handed her the glass. He walked into his office and retrieved the envelope, along with a pair of plastic gloves.
Just seeing it in his hand caused Rainey’s face to turn pale. The frightened expression he’d seen too much of had again surfaced. She pulled her feet from beneath her and looked like she was about to bolt.
He walked to her and pulled her to his side. “Don’t be scared. If you want me to read it when you’re not around, I understand.”
“No. Go ahead. You’ve got to read it sooner or later.”
“Let’s sit back down.” He pulled on the gloves and went through the process of carefully unwrapping the envelope. “You were smart to do this.”
“I’ve seen many cases lost because of an improper handling of trace evidence,” she said softly.
Rainey never stopped watching him as he opened the letter and began reading.
When he finished, he closed his eyes, afraid to even look at her as shock yielded quickly to fury. In short order, his anger turned to a rage like nothing he’d ever felt in his life. Without ever opening his eyes, he pulled her to him and nestled her as close to his side as humanly possible. He never wanted to let go of her, wishing he could take away her pain and shoulder it himself, but he knew that was impossible.
Rainey shook in his arms. He pulled her into his lap where she laid her head on his shoulder.
He kissed her forehead. “Rainey, this is a formal investigation as of this moment, and I’ll do everything humanly possible to get the sonofabitch.” He put his hand on her head, tucking her closer to him.
Within no time she relaxed completely and, by her steady breathing, he knew she’d finally fallen asleep.
Whispering to Fat-Cat, who snuggled against him, Deuce said, “I promise on Daddy’s grave the bastard who sent this is gonna pay.”
Chapter Fourteen
An awakening sun filtered through the windows in Deuce’s bedroom. He opened his eyes and turned over to find himself alone in his big four-poster bed. He was certainly surprised Rainey had gotten out of bed without his knowing it. Obviously, she did and he was the lawman who should be aware of every movement made around him.
He remembered taking her to his bed after she fell sound asleep in his lap, but not until his legs finally went to sleep, too. It had felt too good having her in his arms, especially with her breasts settling against his chest.
When he laid her in his bed, she had awakened only long enough to ask him to stay.
Now he was there alone, having no idea when or how the spitfire had gotten not only out of bed but also past him without his knowing it.
Deuce lay there a few more minutes mulling over the night. He could still smell the light scent of lavender on her pillow.
He relived each moment—beginning with taking off her shoes, and as much as he wanted to he didn’t go any further. He covered her and then laid his phone on the table before he sat down on the side of the bed and kicked off his shoes.
After he removed his jeans and shirt, his iPhone beeped indicating he had a text. The message from Danny read, “Confirmed 10-15.”
Taking a deep breath he knew he’d sleep better knowing Hunter was still in custody. Now he had to worry if there was in fact someone on the outside doing the dirty work for the convict. He’d been behind bars for so long, no telling how many dangerous and horrifically deranged criminals he’d made contact with. Anyone from a gang member to the mob and in between would be willing to right what they saw as a wrong within their brotherhood . . . especially against the person who put Hunter behind bars in the first place.
Deuce typed in, “10-4,” hit send and returned his phone to the nightstand. He slipped into bed beside Rainey. She rolled over right in his arms.
He had had a fretful night having her hot body next to his, but at the same time slept well, knowing she was safe.
Suddenly, a whiff of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Now he knew where the five-foot-two, one hundred and ten pounds of dynamite was. Probably drinking coffee and feeding that dern cat.
Since he planned to work out before they left for Kasota Springs, he only washed his face and brushed his teeth. He stepped into running shorts and added shoes, and then stuffed his phone in his pocket. On his way down the hall, he pulled on a sleeveless tank.
After working out and catching a bite of breakfast, he’d take a shower and they’d head for town. He wanted to get the letter to Danny to be sent off to the state crime lab for testing. He could have his guys lift fingerprints, but no doubt they’d find dozens, including Sylvie’s, and without a proper database to check them against, plus the inability to check for DNA, it’d be a waste of time.
He sighed. Once he finished at the department, then he’d help Rainey at the depot. After all, he was officially on vacation, although he didn’t feel like it.
Deuce thought about the surprise he had for her and hoped it’d help put her at ease by getting her mind off of Hunter. Before he went downstairs, he wanted to confirm with his friend Bob, who was closing out one of his stores, that the merchandise Deuce had selected would arrive first thing Monday morning. He didn’t want to tell her until he was sure the gondolas and shelving would be there on time. They’d have to do double-duty today, but with two people working they could finish the painting. On second thought, if he asked Sylvie, and maybe another trusted soul or two, they could get it done in half the time.
When he arrived in the kitchen, he discovered the coffee pot was still full, so whatever she was doing she didn’t take time to even drink coffee. He rushed back upstairs to see if she’d moved to the guest bedroom, but there was no sign of her being there except for the clothes she’d worn the day before. He called her name as he descended the stairs.
With no answer, he walked quickly to the key rack. All keys were accounted for, so wherever she went she had walked.
His ringing phone startled him, but he quickly identified the caller as his foreman.
“Hey, Bran. What’s up, man?”
“You told me to watch after your friend,” his foreman said.
“Have you seen her this morning?” Deuce quickly asked.
“Yep. She’s running like a hound dog chasin’ a rabbit, but in an athletic sorta way.”
“Where did you see her?”
“Down the road that runs cattywampus to the south pasture. I was out checking for any down fencing when I saw her. So that ol’ plug I ride and I just stopped where I had a clear view and watched her for a while. She seemed to know what she’s doin’, but I thought you might wanna know.”
Still on the phone, Deuce hit the door running in the direction of the pasture his foreman described. “Bran, would you ask Emily to prepare a meal each day except on Fridays, until I tell her otherwise?” It’d been a while since Deuce had been on a foot chase and never while on a phone but he increased his speed. “Of course, I’ll triple what I’m paying her. But I don’t need one tonight. Think I’ll take the lady out to eat in town.”
“Your lady?” A humorous tone was in Bran’s voice. Not waiting for a response, he rushed on. “Sure, I’ll have Emily fix some extra meals. I benefit in the long run since she’ll be fixin’ me a good dinner, too.” He laughed.
“Thanks. If you need me, let me know—other than to sign a check, then send that to my accountant.”
They shared a laugh. Deuce disconnected and slipped his phone in the pocket of his running shorts. He kicked his stride up a notch.
It seemed like he’d run two miles when Rai
ney came in sight. She looked over her shoulder and apparently decided to increase her speed. They went from a comfortable cross-country pace to full-fledged to the finish line sprints. He thought he was in shape but obviously she hadn’t lost her cross-country running skills from high school.
He rather enjoyed lagging back a bit because he got pleasure from watching her long legs, strong shoulders, and nice butt as she ran ahead of him. The only thing better would be if he was ahead of her and running backwards to see her sweet, taut bosom. For a small woman, she sure had long legs and nice, firm, very appealing breasts.
Laughing as he ran, Deuce imagined his stepping in a hole and killing himself trying to run backwards. What a way to go with those images in his head!
Deuce increased his stride to catch up with her and in short order did so.
“You really meant it when you said you’d keep a detail on me all of the time but I didn’t realize it’d include you having to run to keep up with me,” she said dryly and a little winded.
“I keep my promises.” Deuce jogged alongside her, noticing that she had slowed considerably. “Plus, I have something to tell you.”
“If you’re going to tell me the difference between a bull and a steer, I already know that, so make sure it’s something I don’t know.” She flashed him a mischievous smile.
“I can guarantee you don’t know this.”
“Shoot away.” She slowed to a fast walk.
“How about that Danny talked to the warden and confirmed that Alonzo Hunter is still securely tucked away behind bars. No transfers of any sort.”
Rainey stopped dead in her tracks and leaned over and put her hands on her knees. Taking a deep breath, she pulled upright. “That’s a huge relief, but don’t forget that Hunter said he’d have someone on the outside do his dirty work and get to me.” She looked up at him and he couldn’t escape seeing the fear in her eyes.
“Not with me around they won’t.” He spoke the words with confidence that deep inside he didn’t feel. “Let’s get back to the house and drink some coffee, then head for town. I want to get that letter off to the state crime lab today—”
The Troubled Texan Page 13
