Zeph Undercover

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Zeph Undercover Page 13

by Jenny Andersen


  “I was available sooner than expected.”

  When Frank answered, Wentworth leaned forward and flicked the speaker phone button.

  “Well, finally,” Frank said, sounding peevish. “Have you seen Zeph? I’ve been trying to get hold of him all day.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen him. And I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a week.”

  “I’ve been away.”

  “So I heard. None of the incompetent idiots in your office would tell me whether Granger was working for me or not. What do you mean, not informing him of my identity? He’s wasted the last week investigating me.” Wentworth’s voice vibrated with fury.

  “That information was in the cover letter I sent to the detective firm,” Frank said after a pause.

  “So he really is your detective. Well, he’s here.”

  “Where is here?”

  “In Lincoln Wentworth’s office,” Zeph said. “Trying to explain why I was searching his files. I didn’t get your letter.”

  “In Lincoln Wentworth’s office, trying to explain why you were searching his files,” Frank repeated. “Are you out of your mind?”

  Wentworth turned down the volume on the phone.

  “No. I didn’t get the letter, remember? Anyway, requesting an investigation isn’t always proof of innocence,” Zeph said, keeping a wary eye on Wentworth to judge his reaction.

  Frank’s anger apparently had calmed him, and he nodded at Zeph’s response.

  Frank cleared his throat. “I never thought he was guilty.”

  “I had to check.”

  “So you checked. And found nothing incriminating.”

  “We have a few things to discuss.”

  Wentworth frowned.

  “Don’t you have other suspects?” Frank demanded.

  “Of course I have other suspects.”

  “So get Lincoln’s input. And finish the damned job. You’ve been up there for ten days. You’re not on a paid vacation, you know.” The phone clicked decisively and the dial tone filled the office.

  After a long silence, Wentworth said, “Apparently I’ve been promoted from suspect to investigator. And now I’m supposed to ignore your behavior?”

  If only. “Please.”

  Wentworth’s gaze shifted from Zeph to Allie and back. He sighed. “I’m going to trust Frank.”

  Zeph heaved an inner sigh of relief. “I would have preferred to establish your innocence without you knowing who I was, but since that isn’t going to happen, let’s talk about why you suspected Blanton Builders enough to call Frank.”

  “Complaints about the quality of their work. Invoices I couldn’t match to bills. General mistrust of Blanton himself. He was crooked as a mountain road, in my opinion. I’ve spent six months compiling a list of discrepancies.”

  Zeph offered him the empty folder.

  Wentworth opened it and anger suffused his face. Again. “This is empty. What have you done with it?”

  “Nothing. I found it this way. Allie can vouch for that.”

  Wentworth’s gaze shifted to his daughter. “Well, Allie?”

  “Are you going to accept my word?” Allie said. She’d gone paler than white, her face almost green with stress.

  “Yes. Even though I’m angry with you, I don’t think you’d lie to me.”

  “It was empty when he found it,” Allie said in a strangled voice. “That list is in your desk at home.” Her throat worked as she waited for her father’s response.

  The guy had quite a glare. It skewered Zeph again.

  “You searched my office at home?”

  Zeph raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course you did.” After a pause, Wentworth continued. “I don’t like this. I don’t like you.” He looked at Allie. “And I’m not too happy with you, either. But I seem to be stuck working with you, Granger. I’ll be keeping my eye on you. You’d better watch your step.”

  ****

  “It’s nice of you to come with me, Zeph,” Winn said the next morning as she started the truck. “I didn’t want to do this alone. I don’t like Seldon.”

  Zeph checked his seatbelt. Winn might drive like her sister. “Not a problem. Happy to do it.” At least Winn was speaking to him. He’d been happy to not see Wentworth at the breakfast table after he’d risked a call to Allie and discovered her volcanic anger had cooled to a deep-freeze. She hadn’t even listened to his apology.

  “And you didn’t have anything else to do, with Allie not speaking to you,” Winn said with a smirk.

  “That too.” He wouldn’t stoop to asking Winn for some hints about getting Allie over her mad. No, he’d just do this because he ought to take another look at Seldon. Hints would be an added bonus.

  “She’s really furious.”

  “Yep.”

  Silence filled the cab. Finally Winn said, “Aren’t you going to ask me how to make her get over it?”

  Zeph grinned. He could learn to like this kid. “How can I make her get over it?”

  “You can’t. Just be yourself. She’ll get over it on her own. Probably pretty quickly.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Unless you did something to hurt an animal. Then you’re on her shit list forever.”

  He ran over the last few days in his mind. Mabel’s cat? Harley’s horse? No, he couldn’t be faulted there. “Nope. Innocent,” he told Winn.

  “Good.”

  “So why are we out here?”

  “Wend called this morning. I’m looking for another lesson horse and he’s got a seven-year-old gelding that might be what I want.”

  “Whatever you say. It’s hard to imagine wanting to do business with him.”

  Winn shuddered. “I don’t. But I’ve been looking for a while and haven’t found what I need.”

  Zeph shook his head. “I always figured a horse was a horse was a horse. Well, except for race horses. They have to be faster, I guess.”

  “Clueless. You are just plain clueless.” Winn flicked a look at him that said it all…amusement, suspicion, and something smug and female that he couldn’t identify.

  Zeph hunched his shoulders as trees whipped by his window. “You drive like your sister.”

  Winn laughed. “Of course I do. She taught me. So, horses. You interested in learning?”

  Not really. Well, maybe. “Sure.”

  After a dizzying lecture involving alien words like Percheron, hocks, and the one that really confused him, quarter horse, Winn turned onto Seldon’s road. Zeph made a mental note to check with Allie and find out exactly what a quarter horse could be. He hadn’t ever seen a one-legged one, so it must be some insider term.

  Seldon’s place hadn’t changed. Ramshackle barn. Leaning fences. Piles of junk. Snarling dogs.

  Winn leaned on the horn.

  Zeph looked around for the mare Allie had treated. A brown horse stood motionless in a pasture, head drooping.

  Winn jerked her chin toward it. “That’s the one Allie doctored the other day.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Allie described her.”

  “It’s a brown horse. There are a lot of brown horses.”

  “She’s a fourteen and a half hand bay mare, part Morgan, with a white star and a long mane on the left. I can tell more when we get out.”

  He’d learn, he supposed, and then wondered when that had begun to sound like a good idea.

  Seldon ambled across the barnyard, shouted at the dogs, and opened Winn’s door. “Winn Wentworth. You’re all growed up. I’ll be go to hell.”

  Zeph could only hope. From the set of her shoulders, Winn agreed.

  “Been a long time since I’ve seen you. You sure grew up nice.”

  The slime in Seldon’s voice set Zeph’s temper sizzling. He got out and strode around the front of the truck. “She sure has a bodyguard, Seldon.”

  “Well, hey, it’s the city boy. How you doing, Granger?” As friendly as if he had completely missed Zeph’s statement and ready-to-rumble posture, he held
out a hand. “Told you you’d be back to buy a horse, din’t I?”

  “I’m just along for the ride, Seldon. Winn’s the one doing the shopping.”

  “I’d give you a good deal.”

  Zeph shook his head. “Give Winn a good deal.”

  Seldon looked expectantly at her. “You said you were lookin’ for a lesson horse. Got a nice, gentle gelding over here.” He took Winn’s arm and led her toward a corral near the barn. They stopped at the fence, Seldon talking, Winn shaking her head.

  Zeph looked back at the brown horse—excuse him, bay mare. She raised her head and looked back, as if she recognized him. Without really meaning to, he walked over to the fence. She took a limping step toward him. “Not well yet, huh?” he said, and shook his head. Talking to a horse. He had to solve this case and get out of here. Stone’s Crossing was getting to him.

  The mare took another step and pushed her nose against his arm. Her breath sighed warm and moist against his shirt, and he couldn’t help raising the other hand to stroke her neck. The hair didn’t feel as stiff and harsh as it had before.

  Eventually Winn and Seldon picked their way through the messy yard back to where he leaned against the fence.

  “Well, well. Looks like you found yourself a horse,” Seldon said.

  “Is this the horse Allie worked on?”

  “Sure is. Still alive and kickin’. Feisty little thing.”

  “Doesn’t look all that feisty to me.”

  “Nah, she’s comin’ along fine. You interested?”

  Behind his back, Winn signaled a violent no. But the horse—mare—bay mare—raised her head and nudged him.

  “No, thanks,” Zeph said. “No place for a horse in L. A.”

  “You don’t want to drive all the way out here for nothing,” Seldon whined.

  “Cut it out, Wend. He can’t even ride her.”

  “Why not?” Zeph asked. “Well, except for the fact that I don’t know how to ride.”

  “She’s too small. Even if she were completely sound—and that’s pretty iffy right now—you’d be too heavy for her.”

  He shouldn’t have felt disappointment zing through him. He’d barely gotten as far as visualizing riding across a meadow, side by side with Allie. “Too bad,” he told Seldon.

  “Nah, she’s sound now,” Seldon said. “Check her out,” he demanded of Winn.

  Winn looked at Zeph. He nodded. Shrugging, she ducked through the fence and ran her hand down the mare’s leg.

  “So, you’re still in town,” Seldon said to Zeph. “Been keeping a pretty low profile, I reckon.”

  “I’m on vacation. What’s your excuse?”

  Seldon smiled. “Been a little quiet, but that might not last.”

  “Yeah? Interesting.”

  “We’ll see.” He turned to Winn. “So?”

  “Wend, you know as well as I do that leg hasn’t healed. She’s never going to be really sound. You’re going to end up selling her for dog food.”

  Zeph’s stomach clenched in protest.

  He must have made a noise because Winn shot a glare at him. “Unless you find a real sucker.”

  “What would he get for her from the dog food people?” Zeph asked her.

  Seldon’s eyes lit and his mouth stretched in a wide, crocodile smile.

  Thirty minutes later, Zeph sat in the truck and Seldon’s place grew smaller and smaller in the side mirror. “Thanks, Winn,” he said. “You’re quite a horse trader. If you’d kept bargaining, he might have paid me to take her.”

  “He should have,” she grumbled. “What are you going to do with a sick horse that you’ll never be able to ride?”

  He shrugged.

  “I just hope Allie’s at the clinic when we get there,” Winn said. “I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out you bought a horse. I’ll bet she never expected this.”

  Neither had he. He twisted in the truck seat to check that the horse trailer still followed.

  Winn’s truck.

  Winn’s trailer.

  His horse.

  ****

  Allie had grabbed the ringing phone at oh dark hundred expecting an emergency. She got Zeph. When his tentative apology came through the wire, she’d slammed the receiver right back down. As if an apology would make things better. She’d stuck her head back under the pillow, fuming and wallowing in anger and embarrassment, just as she’d done for the whole sleepless night.

  To her surprise, the clock read almost eight when she surfaced. Thank goodness she hadn’t scheduled any morning appointments. But the animals—she tore out of bed and stumbled down the stairs.

  Just as she got to the clinic, someone banged on the door. Great. Her least favorite thing, starting the day with an emergency. Before coffee. The banging escalated and she rushed to throw the door open.

  Her father stood on the porch, hollow-eyed and haggard. “I want to talk to you, Allison.”

  What a surprise. “I’m sure you do. You can talk to me in the kennel room. I have to check my over-nighters.”

  “If that’s the best we can do.”

  Here we go. Firing squad time. She really wished she’d gotten coffee before he’d showed up. He followed her down the hall and leaned against the counter that ran along one side to the room while she busied herself checking her post-op Great Dane. She gave Caesar one last pat. “You’re doing fine, big guy. Janey’s coming to get you this afternoon.”

  “That’s Rollins’s granddaughter’s dog? What happened to him?”

  “Gastro-torsion dilatation complex. I got him on the table barely in the nick of time.” She moved on to the next cage. “Want a couple of kittens? I have to find homes for these little cuties.” She looked up at him. The drooping eyes, the faint grayish tone of his skin brought back the fear that had become her companion last spring when he’d had a heart attack. Losing him—she couldn’t bear the thought. “Dad, I’m so sorry.”

  “I expect so.” He skewered her with his judge-like glare. “How did he get you to help him?”

  “I wanted to prove you hadn’t done anything wrong.” Allie squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “He asked me for help and I thought if he found out right away that you weren’t involved, he’d get on with his case and leave.”

  “So this courting thing is all pretense?”

  Allie busied herself filling the kittens’ water bowl. “He says not.”

  Her father’s glare almost smothered her. “And you’re all right with that?”

  “Yes.” She nodded without looking at him. “Well, sort of.” She handed him a kitten and leaned against the counter, cuddling the other one.

  “Allison, you are an adult. I’ve tried not to pry into things that should be private, but I’m asking you now—what are your feelings for this man? You have a picture of him in your office, you seem to enjoy his company, and you didn’t quibble about helping him…”

  “I told you—”

  “Yes, I know. You did it for me.” The kitten scrambled up to her father’s shoulder and planted its cold little nose on his ear, making him smile.

  All the love, the years of closeness they’d known hit Allie, swamping her. She’d tell him anything. If she could figure out what to say. “I—” Lord, what were her feelings for Zeph? “I like him,” she temporized, concentrating her gaze on the kitten she held.

  “Mmm.” Her father gave her The Look and she immediately reverted to age thirteen.

  “I could love him,” she admitted.

  “Could? Hmph.” He detached his kitten and set it back in its cage. “I’ll ask Martha about the kittens. You came home from Los Angeles looking quite upset. What did he do to you?”

  Allie tucked her kitten into the cage and drew a deep breath. “All right, Dad. Short version is, too many other women.” She gave him an abbreviated run-down of That Night at Zeph’s house.

  “And you’re still willing to moon after this man?” He bristled, every inch the protective father.

  �
�That’s sweet, Dad, but that’s his past,” she said defensively. “At least, that’s what he says. And he didn’t even flirt with Mabel.”

  Her father filled a food dish and set it in the Dane’s cage. “I suppose that’s commendable.”

  “He’s really a wonderful person. Even though he says he doesn’t like animals, he never said a word about ruining his shoes the other day at Monty’s. And Wend’s mare really got to him yesterday.” Allie dumped cat litter and refilled the tray. “He’s been a lot of help. We work together like a team without even thinking about it.” She got shivers thinking about what a good team they made. Could make.

  “Hmph.” Her father got his stern judge expression, the one he used when digging for truth. “It doesn’t bother you that he justifies sneaking around like a thief?” He took the cleaned litter tray and returned it to the cage. One of the kittens nuzzled his hand and he stroked it with a gentle finger.

  Allie turned away from him to hide her face. “Yes,” she had to admit. “It does. But—”

  “But apparently he’s effective. Frank thinks he walks on water.”

  “He could lose his license over something like last night, couldn’t he?”

  “Of course. Also nothing he finds that way is admissible in court. But according to Frank, he always comes up with solid evidence. Apparently these little—excursions—don’t happen often.”

  Or he doesn’t get caught often. “He doesn’t take things,” Allie defended while she wiped down the counter and put away the cat litter. “He only looks.”

  “He likes living in cities,” her father said.

  Right. Like she hadn’t noticed. “I know.”

  “Have you asked yourself if you’re willing to move to Los Angeles?”

  Only about eighty thousand times.

  He took her silence for assent.

  “For what it’s worth, Allison, I like him.”

  Her world tilted. He liked Zeph? “Even after last night?”

  Her father smiled. “Yes, I rather did want to murder him, didn’t I? But on reflection, I like the idea that he considered that his client might be guilty. He’s a smart man. And Frank says that he’s dependable. Reliable. Ethical.”

 

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