Zeph Undercover

by Jenny Andersen

  “Naw. Perfect Paso temperament. I’ll swear these are the sweetest horses in the world. But his groom came along with him. This horse is worth having an extra person on the payroll. By damn, he is.”

  Sobriano began to race around his paddock.

  Allie grabbed Zeph’s arm. “Look, look,” she exclaimed. “He’s doing it. That’s the paso llano. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  The wide, springy steps brought the horse close to the fence.

  Zeph oozed back.

  Allie tugged to keep him close to the fence.

  “Look at that deep chest, Granger. And have you ever seen a better gait? I’m telling you, this guy is going to make history.”

  “You already know I’m not an expert,” Zeph said. “But based on his appearance, I’d have to agree.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I know a hell of a lot more about investing—and building—than horses.”

  “Never too late to start.” Chaz clapped him on the back. “Let’s you and me have a little talk while the most gorgeous vet in the state gets to work. Allie, I’ll call Juan to help you.” He turned back to Zeph. “Come on. I’ll show you some of the mares this fellow is going to be covering.”

  The two men walked away. Allie gazed after them. Since when did Zeph have an interest in the building trade? Investing, maybe. Lord knew he seemed to have enough money. But he was a private detective, for crying out loud. The penny dropped. He could—and would—pretend anything if his investigation required it.

  She started setting up equipment, contemplating Zeph’s job. If he posed as a horse-loving investor, this must be part of the same case that had brought him to Stone’s Crossing. And he suspected Chaz? Why hadn’t he warned her? Last night, she might have told everyone he was a detective, something he clearly didn’t want broadcast. Jerk. He wanted her help, but didn’t offer anything approaching partnership. Given the way he felt about horses, he deserved everything he got today. She smiled.

  Most of Chaz’s horses were examined, vaccinated, and admired by the time Zeph and Chaz returned. She looked up, wondering how things had gone.

  “He may not know much about horses,” Chaz said, “but he’s hell on wheels with investing. I believe we can do some business, Allie.”

  Zeph smiled.

  She’d seen that wolfish smile before, and it confirmed her guess. Had he switched his suspicions from her father to Chaz? Before she found out, one of Chaz’s employees jogged up and handed him a note.

  His face darkened as he read it. “I’ll be right there,” he said, and turned to Allie. “I need Juan up at the house. Can you carry on without him?”

  “Zeph can help me,” she said. “I’m almost done.”

  “Thanks. Let me know before you leave.”

  When he had gone, Allie faced Zeph. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  “Why did you ask if you don’t want my help?” His mouth set in a grim line. “If you didn’t want me embarrassing you in front of your friend, you should have spoken up sooner. I probably put my foot in it a dozen times.”

  “I don’t care if you put your foot in it.” She swallowed a grin, remembering Monty’s colicky horse. “I want to talk to you.” She shouldered him out of the way and led the last mare out of her stall.

  Zeph leaned against the wall as far from the horse as possible. “Fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Holding up the barn?”

  “I mean, why are you here?”

  “I’m a detective. I detect.”

  “You’re investigating Chaz? Clark?”

  “You know I can’t—”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  Relief made her light-headed for a moment. “Thank you.” One look at his set face made her think again, and she didn’t like what she came up with. “Wait a minute.” Playing for time, she opened the mare’s mouth and peered inside. “She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she,” she crooned. “I think you’re going to be another champion for Chaz, you pretty thing.” But she had to know. “Both of them? And does this mean you don’t suspect my father anymore?”

  Zeph heaved a sigh and started to move away from the wall. The mare tossed her head and he stepped back. “No, Allie, it doesn’t. Multiple lines of investigation, that’s all. You’ll still have to hate me.”

  Only the presence of the horse kept her from exploding. The untrusting idiot. Suspicious nitwit. Stupid jerk. She took a deep breath and slid the earpieces of her stethoscope in place to listen to the mare’s heart, lungs, and belly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zeph vibrate with tension. She straightened and glared at him, furious almost beyond words. “You’re not going to have to spring to my defense, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Somehow,” he muttered, “I don’t think you’ll need my help.”

  Allie raised an eyebrow. “Probably not. Is that a problem?”

  “Of course not.”

  Of course not. Her grip on her temper slipped. “You probably want all women to be helpless so you can feel like a big hero,” she said, knowing she sounded waspish.

  He grinned. “Temper, temper.”

  “You don’t even like helping me.” She gave the mare a pat and led her back to her stall. “And you didn’t tell me you’d be there last night. What if I hadn’t heard Mr. Fitzgerald introduce you? I could have ruined the whole thing.”

  He nodded. “I would have told you ahead of time if I’d known I’d run into you. And Frank tried to find you to let you know.”

  She turned her back, concentrating on packing her equipment back into the boxes. “Yeah, I can understand you wouldn’t look for me at a black tie dinner. Poor unsophisticated farm girl and all.” How childish could she get?

  “You make a big deal out of being such a country girl and hating cities, but you clean up damned good and I didn’t notice you playing the country bumpkin with the mayor and all those fancy dudes who were fawning over you all night.”

  “Country bumpkin?” she squeaked. “Country bumpkin? You think— Let me tell you something, Mr. City Sophisticate. I’ve been planning and hostessing political dinners since I was seventeen. I’ve had dinner at the White House, and—and—” Anger choked the rest and she stopped for a few deep breaths.

  “Allie, I didn’t—”

  “Is that what our fancy dinners last summer were supposed to be about? Was the country bumpkin supposed to be overwhelmed by the glamour of the big city?”

  “No. I wanted you to have a good time. Yes, I did hope you’d find it...dazzling...but—”

  “So I’d fall right into your bed? Well, it sure worked, didn’t it? You had me right where you wanted me.” She turned on her heel and walked to the truck that Chaz had left for them. “So I was supposed to be so bedazzled that I’d spend the next however long running to L. A. whenever you were in the mood for my company?” she flung over her shoulder.

  “Well, if I did, I was wrong.” He stamped after her, his footsteps thudding like a Percheron. “How is it you can leave your precious practice for this little jaunt, partying it up in Sacramento, but you don’t have time to visit me in L. A. because you’re on call twenty-four seven?”

  She squashed a quiver of pleasure. That sounded like jealousy to her. “If I can do it for Chaz, why not for you? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s not quite the way I would have put it, but since you asked, yeah, that’s what I’m saying. I didn’t think you were a liar.”

  “I’m not a liar. I am on call. In case it escaped your notice, we came here today in a helicopter. And it’s standing by to take me home if there’s an emergency. Even you have to admit that’s not quite the same as driving to Los Angeles. I didn’t notice you hiring a chopper.”

  “Fine. So Mentrine can afford to fly his private air force. How does that explain the party?”

  “I arranged with a vet in Nevada City to take emergency calls. Chaz wanted my father there. He likes having a retired judge around. Thinks it makes him l
ook better, more important or something.”

  Zeph’s attention had zeroed in on that like a bird dog sighting a big, juicy duck. “Does he need something to make him look better?” he asked.

  “Of course not,” she snapped. It always comes back to your job, doesn’t it?” She heaved a box of supplies into the back of the SUV. Zeph set the other box beside it. She glared at him. He glared back. Great. Now we look like a couple of kids squaring off in the playground. “And you’re after Dad, and Santos. And Chaz, and Clark, and—is there anyone not on your list?”

  Fury stabbed across his face. “No.”

  Allie swallowed a complicated mix of amusement, sympathy, and commiseration. It must be eating him up to be so baffled by a case. “Investigating anyone who comes along isn’t very efficient.”

  “Sometimes it’s the best we can do. So why were you at that dinner if you hate social stuff so much?”

  “As my father’s hostess, I was requested to attend also. You can’t believe I was at that stupid shindig by choice.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems I don’t know you very well at all, Allie.” He didn’t seem to hurry, but somehow had reached the passenger door and opened it for her. She watched with narrowed eyes while he closed the door, walked around the truck, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  He reached for the key, started the truck, and drove to the main house without a word. When she started up the steps, he caught her hand and leaned to nip a lush, full-blown white rose from the nearest bush. He handed it to her. “You accused me of trying to dazzle you. Instead, I’m the one who’s dazzled. You’re one hell of a woman, Allie.”

  She stared at the flower, not wanting to let go of her anger. Not wanting to believe him. Not wanting to want him. Oh, man. She was so out of her league here.

  ****

  Zeph stood with his hands behind him. The helicopter got smaller and smaller as it flew toward Stone’s Crossing. He sighed and turned back to the house. He should be grateful. Her departure left him free to concentrate on his job.

  Mentrine had suggested he stay for dinner to meet a couple of the big guns in the local building trade. Perfect. And he had the whole afternoon to poke around in Mentrine’s office and the rooms of the other two guests if he could only get the chance.

  The three men, Mentrine and the two builders, Anderville and Crandall, came out the door just as he reached it, all in riding clothes. “We’re going to take a little ride, Granger,” Mentrine said. “You interested in coming along? These Pasos are a riding experience like you’ve never had before.”

  That wouldn’t take much since he’d never been on a horse before. “Afraid I’m not up to the present company,” he said. “And I’m such a beginner, I don’t think you want me on one of your fine animals. I might hurt his mouth.” He hoped he had that right. Allie had said something once about a clumsy rider. “Give me a rain check?”

  Mentrine nodded. “Very thoughtful. Appreciate it. I guess Allie really meant it when she said you’re a beginner.” He slapped Zeph on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  He’d make himself at home, all right. Just as much as he could get away with. “Not worried I’ll make off with the Stubbs?”

  “Not a chance,” Mentrine snorted. “I have the best security money can buy.”

  Zeph believed it. He wandered around the house, looking overtly at paintings and covertly at everything else, and ending up in Mentrine’s office in front of the Stubbs. That morning, Mentrine had pointed to it and talked at length about Stubbs and horse conformation and fashions in painting and riding style.

  Taking another look at the painting couldn’t be construed as snooping. Zeph planted himself in front of it, taking in as much of the office as he could without moving anything but his eyes and wondering where the cameras were. Not a single piece of paper could be seen. Everything must be tucked securely into those locked file cabinets, and he’d bet a million dollars the computer required more passwords than Fort Knox.

  A dozen photographs hung on the wall by the door, and he paused to check them out. Mentrine with Schwartzenegger, Mentrine with Hunnewill, Mentrine and the two guests from today. One, Mentrine and Derek Blanton with a man Zeph had never seen before, caused a tingle. He fingered the very James Bond-ish pen/camera in his jacket pocket to photograph it.

  When the riders returned, Zeph did his best to look appreciative as he listened to tales of horse wonderfulness. When the men ran out of stories, Mentrine asked, “I feel guilty about abandoning you. What did you do with yourself?”

  Zeph figured Mentrine would look at the security discs before dinner, so he said with his most innocent expression, “Took another look at the paintings you showed me this morning. That Stubbs—I had no idea. Well, as Allie told you, I’m a real beginner at horses. Quite an eye opener, that picture.”

  Mentrine looked satisfied, and the riders went off to clean up before dinner.

  Later that evening, Zeph leaned back in his chair and considered the company. Mentrine sure knew how to throw a stag dinner. Butter-tender steaks, twice-baked potatoes, and a soufflé that would have Emeril begging for the recipe, followed by brandy and cigars. Zeph had met the two biggest builders—besides Mentrine—in the area, and both of them had been more than happy to talk about malls and office buildings they’d be happy to construct for him. Fueled by a constant stream of alcohol before and during dinner, and some excellent brandy afterward, they’d even joked about undercutting each other’s bids.

  “I thought Mayor Hunnewill was coming,” Zeph said over the second brandy. Everyone laughed, and he looked at Mentrine to see what was so funny.

  “Clark doesn’t do this kind of investment,” Mentrine said. “He saves his energies for politics.”

  Something for Zeph to check out as soon as he got back to Stone’s Crossing. He wasn’t taking any chances on doing it while he was still on Mentrine’s home turf.

  “I’ve been visiting in Stone’s Crossing,” Zeph said. “Not much going on in a place like that, but there used to be a builder there. Maybe he made a bid for some bigger jobs. Blanton, I mean.”

  “Never heard of him,” said Crandall.

  Anderville shook his head. “Lots of wanna-be’s in this business.” He shrugged. “Guess he’s not anyone important.”

  “Derek Blanton,” Mentrine said. “I knew him. Slightly. Came to a bad end, I heard.”

  Too uninterested to be true? Zeph made a mental note to look for any link between Mentrine and Blanton. And to ask Frank to run financials on the other two men. Also, he needed to identify the man in the picture with Mentrine.

  When—if—he proved one of them guilty, he’d be back on track with Allie.

  Chapter 5

  He didn’t get back to Stone’s Crossing until the middle of the next day. The need to make peace with Allie lent urgency to each mile. He should have gotten her flowers. No, he shouldn’t. Yes. No. He hated waffling like this. Generally, he knew how to soothe irritated women, but Allie wouldn’t go for the usual flowers/apology/fancy evening. She was—different. He ignored the thought that tried to form.

  When he reached the clinic, the waiting room overflowed with dogs and cats and little furry things he couldn’t identify. One kid clutched a cardboard box like the contents might escape. It might hold anything. He backed away and headed for the rear entrance, much better than getting involved in that melee. In the kitchen, he smacked into Allie.

  “Thank goodness,” she said. “Can you get out to the desk and answer the phone for me? Take messages unless it’s an emergency.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “The answering machine’s not working.”

  “But—”

  She rushed into one of the examination rooms without waiting for an answer.

  Two minutes ago, he thought he’d do anything to stay out of that room full of animals. Now, all he could think was, God, could it be this easy? Probably not, but helping could
n’t hurt his chances with Allie. He headed for the front of the clinic.

  Three hours later, the waiting room had emptied and he pushed away from the desk and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back.

  Allie came into the room, drying her hands. “Thank you.” After an awkward pause, she added, “It was nice of you to help after the way I acted yesterday. I apologize.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The situation has to be hard for you.”

  She nodded.

  “Does it help that I don’t think your father’s guilty?”

  “Then why—? Never mind. I understand about evidence that can stand up in court. It’s just that I know Dad would never—don’t raise your eyebrow at me like that.”

  “How many times do I have to say I don’t think he’s guilty? And you’re right. I have to have hard facts. It’s all about eliminating suspects one by one. And if you help me, it’ll get done sooner.”

  She eyed him, suspicion clear on her face. “Help you how? I’m your cover for being here. What more do you want?”

  Searching Wentworth’s files would be a lot easier with her help. Too soon to say that, though. “I want to be able to count on you, whatever comes up.”

  She was going to say no. He could see it in her eyes. “Allie, work with me here. Your father’s the first person the police will look at if they get involved. And they will, if I can’t find the guilty party soon.”

  Her face paled and she shut her eyes. After a moment she opened them and looked at him. “All right. You can count on me.”

  ****

  Two days later, Zeph tucked his phone into a pocket and climbed into Allie’s truck. “Where to this time?”

  “Davenport’s,” she snapped. He recognized her grim expression. The one she got when her patient might not survive.

  “Because?”

  “Because one of his mares had a close encounter with a bovine horn.”

  He must have looked puzzled, because in a hard, angry voice she added, “Harley’s spread is next to Tim Josten’s, and Josten doesn’t seem to be able to keep his prize bull penned up. The damned thing is loose half the time, and it’s a killer. Even if it does follow him around like a dog when he offers it a bucket of oats.” She jerked the truck around a turn and scowled at him. “I heard you on the phone.”