Lone Star Legacy

by Roxanne Rustand

  Another reason, among many, why being single was proving to be a very satisfactory way to live.

  Beth followed Gina out to the street, waved goodbye, then settled on the front porch swing to thumb through the stack of mail she’d picked up at the post office.

  A fistful of credit-card applications destined for the shredder.

  The local paper, which came out Saturdays and Wednesdays.

  A letter from her sister, Melanie.

  At the bottom of the stack, the official-looking letter that she’d had to sign for, from the county attorney’s office in Chicago.

  Her hand trembled as she slid a finger under the flap.

  There’d been a lot of questions after Patrick’s death. Over the timing of the accident. Problems at the construction company, where he’d worked in accounting. Still numb with shock and in pain from her injuries, she’d had no answers to give, though she’d seen the doubt and suspicion in the eyes of the investigators.

  The break-in at her home a few weeks later brought them all back again, but in the end, they’d finally gone away and had left her in relative peace…though some of their wild suppositions about Patrick’s activities gnawed at her.

  Even if none of it made any sense.

  She finished opening the envelope and spread the letter out against her knees.

  This letter is to inform you that the investigation into the charges filed against Patrick Martin Lindstrom has been reopened. We may need to obtain further statements from you.

  She stared at the letter. Read it twice. Then folded it back into the envelope, her stomach tying itself in knots. So it still isn’t over.

  And things weren’t much better here. According to the sheriff, his interviews with the troublesome teenagers he’d called “his usual suspects” had yielded alibis for all three on the night her yard was trashed. They’d mentioned seeing a local, unemployed man named Hubie Post lurking in the vicinity earlier that evening, though Talbot hadn’t been able to track him down for questioning. Hubie. Wasn’t he the guy who’d been sent to help her move in, but never showed up?

  The thought gave her a chill. What about the mysterious car that occasionally crept down Canyon Street late at night—was there an innocent explanation for why it idled in that dark and deserted area? And why in the world would a vagrant like Hubie bother to vandalize her yard? It just didn’t make sense.

  Yet lately, she’d begun to have the eerie sensation that she was being watched…and the two late-night phone calls last month certainly hadn’t been her imagination. Innocuous problems, compared to the threat that her caller made, though he’d given her that warning a month ago and hadn’t ever turned up. Since then it had been hard to sleep at night.

  She rose, dusted off her jeans and glanced over at the vet clinic parking lot.

  It was time to pay Walt another visit.

  “I WANT TO THANK YOU again for Darwin,” Beth began, setting a coconut cream cake on the counter in the vet clinic. “He is one fabulous cat.”

  Walt lifted an eyebrow. “You’re bringing him back?”

  “Only if you need him. Sophie loves him and he terrifies the mice, so it’s a perfect relationship in every way.”

  “Then he’s yours.” Walt chuckled. “I was hoping you’d want him.”

  “Now I need a dog. Something noisy. Fierce. Something that will frighten away strangers but be dependable with Sophie…and not eat my café customers if they happen to intersect.”

  Walt’s brow furrowed. “You think those vandals will come back?”

  “I hope not. But the sheriff recommended a dog a while back, and I believe he’s right. There’s not another house for almost two blocks, and when the clinic is closed this is a pretty lonely area.”

  “You like dogs? They need a lot of love and attention.”

  “My husband never let me have one, but I grew up with goldens. Now that Joel has finished the fence around my property, it’s time to start looking.” She smiled, hoping her anxiety didn’t show. If Walt picked up on it, he would talk to Joel, and then she’d face the third degree from both of them. “He fixed it so the front and back yards are completely fenced, but can be closed off from each other. Sophie could use a buddy,” she added.

  “Well…the goldens I know would probably lick an intruder to death, but they’d be great with Sophie.” He pondered for a minute, then smiled. “I do know of something that just might work. Loraine’s uncle Kenny recently moved into a care center, and has to give up his dog. It isn’t really a ranch sort of dog, so it isn’t working out too well for Loraine to keep her.”

  Beth envisioned a doddering, gray-muzzled dog that would provide protection only if an intruder happened to trip over it on the way into the house. “Is it…lively?”

  “Enough.”

  “Is it old?”

  “Middle-aged.”

  “Big?”

  “Not very.”

  “Housebroken?”

  “I’m sure she is.” He smiled. “I’ll bring Viper over tonight and let you take a look.”

  She felt herself pale. “V-Viper?”

  Walt chuckled. “You just need to meet her, and see what you think.”

  SHE CAME OVER TODAY asking for a watchdog, Walt had said. Maybe you should see if she’s in some kind of trouble over there.

  Walt was still blatantly attempting to bring Joel and Beth together as a couple, so asking Joel to check in on her could be just another ploy. Yet, Walt did worry about everyone who came under his wing, and it certainly seemed plausible that Beth could be in trouble. From her first day in town, Joel had sensed an undercurrent of wariness in her manner that had piqued his curiosity.

  Her husband’s death…her anonymous caller…the vandalism at her place—did it all add up to more than she’d been willing to reveal? Had she been in some sort of serious trouble before moving here? All things considered, Joel would bet his badge—if he still had one—that there was something in her past that she wanted hidden.

  It was definitely time to call in an old favor.

  He flipped open his cell phone, and punched in the number of an investigator he knew in Detroit. The phone rang six times before rolling into voice mail. “Hey, Steve. I’ve got a favor to ask. I need a background check on a woman from Chicago…and her late husband.”

  JOEL CHECKED HIS voice and e-mail messages every twenty minutes, impatient for an answer. Maybe his hunch was wrong. But if it wasn’t, Beth and her daughter might well be in danger living alone in that drafty old house. His blood chilled at the thought of them staying there, defenseless and at the mercy of the slow response times of the overtaxed sheriff’s department, with so few officers trying to cover the entire county.

  He paced the length of his house another time, then went back to his office and glared at the computer monitor. Maybe Steve was out on a case. Maybe he was on a vacation, or had left early for the day and wouldn’t even be listening to his messages. Maybe—

  The computer chimed, and the mailbox flag started waving at the bottom of his monitor screen. He quickly clicked into Yahoo and found the newest incoming mail. Bingo.

  The message from Steve was terse. He’d also attached copies of several archived articles from the Chicago Tribune.

  The pencil in Joel’s hand snapped as he read them. He hit Print, then impatiently waited for the paper to shoot out of the laser printer.

  In less than two minutes he was heading for town, Steve’s words still hitting him with the staccato impact of semiautomatic gunfire.

  Maybe he and Beth had only known each other for a couple months, but she was a woman alone, and he’d thought they were friends by now. Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to tell him the truth?

  He thought about sweet little Sophie, defenseless and trusting. And Beth, who’d have no chance against a thug who might easily be twice her size.

  He was going to pay Beth a visit, and he was going to lay things on the line, to just see what she had to say. But all the way to town, h
e prayed Steve’s message was wrong.

  WALT SET the pet carrier down on Beth’s porch and beamed at her. “I think,” he said with a broad smile, “that Viper here is the answer to your dilemma.”

  Beth eyed the carrier, unable to conceal her doubt. “It…must be so small.”

  “Can I see, Momma? Please?” Sophie struggled in Beth’s arms, wanting to get down.

  But small or not, anything by the name of Viper had to present some risk to tiny fingers and toes.

  “Hang on, honey, until we see what this is.” She looked at Walt. “Are you sure this dog will be imposing enough?”

  He leaned down and unlatched the door. “Take a look.”

  A pointy black nose appeared.

  Thick, short black fur.

  Beady little eyes.

  Then ears similar to a fox…or a bat. A bristly black lion’s ruff of a mane, then a short, compact body without a tail. It couldn’t possibly weigh more than eight or nine pounds.

  Disappointment washed through her. “Wh-what is it?”

  “A Schipperke.”

  “But it’s…it’s small.”

  “She thinks she weighs a good sixty pounds. This dog will settle the score on any dog that gets in her way—it absolutely terrorized Loraine’s two Australian shepherds.”

  She couldn’t conceal her doubt. “I’m not sure—”

  Walt chuckled. “With this thick, black coat, she’s practically invisible in the dark, unless she bares her teeth. She took down a burglar, once. Nailed him in the ankles, barked enough to raise the dead, and had him cornered and trembling ’til the cops arrived.”

  “So she’s mean.”

  “These dogs are very protective of their homes and family. They bark up a storm if there’s a threat, and believe me, any intruder would think twice about risking that kind of notice.” He picked up the dog and cuddled her against his chest. “She was raised around Kenny’s grandkids, so she should be fine with Sophie. You should probably keep her in the backyard when the café is open, though, in case she assumes your customers are trying to break in.”

  That didn’t sound good, but Walt had been right about the cat….

  “Then I guess we could give this a try,” Beth said faintly. She put Sophie down, and reached out to stroke the top of the dog’s head. Viper’s long, pink tongue swooped out to lick her hand. “You’re sure she’ll be good with us? Predictable?”

  He chuckled fondly as he placed the dog in Beth’s arms. “Give her a day or so to make herself at home, and I’ll guarantee it. I promise you, she’ll protect this place with her life.”

  JOEL PULLED TO A HALT in the alley behind Beth’s house and jogged to the backyard gate.

  He’d barely touched the latch when something small and black burst off the porch and flew down the walk like a supersonic bowling ball—barking loud enough to alert the entire county. It threw itself against the gate, needle sharp teeth snapping as it jumped higher and higher, apparently trying to gain enough altitude to make it over the gate and take him out.

  His ears ringing, he took a step back and looked up to find Beth out on the porch, hands on her hips. She shook her head in apparent amazement, then placed two fingers at her lips and whistled sharply. “C’mon, Viper. It’s okay.”

  The dog backed off growling, its eyes riveted on Joel’s. Daring him, in no uncertain terms, to make the next move.

  But when Beth whistled again, it turned and trotted up the walk to sit in front of her.

  “I still don’t think I’m coming in,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “What is that thing, anyway?”

  Beth picked up the doglet and rubbed it behind the ears. “A gift from your uncle. I think it works.”

  He drew close to Beth and offered his open palm to the dog. It looked up at him, seemed to judge him a friend, then licked his hand. “What about Sophie?”

  “I’ve been watching them really close, but they seem fine together.” She put the dog down and watched as it bounded back into the yard to bark at a squirrel. “Darwin’s another story. He took one look at Viper, jumped from the top of the refrigerator and gave her a glare that could’ve melted steel. Now and then he comes down to parade in front of her nose, just to let her know who’s boss.”

  Beth wore a soft pink top that barely skimmed the waist of her matching shorts, and her long, strawberry blond hair was loose and curly today. From all appearances, someone might guess she was Sophie’s high school babysitter…too fresh and innocent to ever be involved in anything illegal.

  He caught her delicate scent—like sweet, lush peaches, this time—on a soft breeze.

  And just like that, his steely resolution to confront her started melting fast as ice under the hot Texas sun.

  Since the night of the dance he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the intense emotions he’d felt, just holding her in his arms. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but it had been as natural as breathing to lower his mouth to hers.

  Just the moonlight, he’d told himself.

  The intimacy of holding a woman close.

  Any woman, after such a long time alone.

  But that brief, innocent kiss had totally blown him away. In an instant, the music and the moonlight and the crowd pressing against them had faded. His focus had narrowed down to Beth’s warmth. Her softness. Her sweet, inviting mouth, and the way she’d responded.

  She tempted him more than anyone had since the bitter end of his marriage, but he hadn’t been a cop for nearly fifteen years for nothing.

  He was going to find out what her secrets were…so he could help her, in case danger arrived at her door.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A SHIVER OF UNEASE SWEPT through Beth at the intense expression in Joel’s dark eyes.

  From the moment they’d met, he’d seemed a little too interested in her past. He’d made her feel edgy, uncertain. They’d settled into a comfortable working relationship—friendship, even—marred only by that sensual, slow dance from heaven, and an incredible kiss that she’d tried to forget.

  But now, she could see his doubts about her were back a hundredfold.

  She fixed a bright, breezy smile on her face. “If you’re concerned about the upstairs appliances, they won’t be coming until the fifth of June. I can have Sears do those installations. I’m just thankful for all you’ve done with the café. My food supplier will be making the first delivery tomorrow, and I can open on Wednesday, just as planned. I even have the—”

  “Beth.”

  She turned away, unable to meet his eyes any longer, and bent to hunt for dead blooms on the geraniums by the steps. “Um…do I owe you more money? If I do, I’ll settle up on Friday. Unless you need it now? I can—”

  “I don’t want your money. I just want some answers.”

  She snapped off a dead bloom. Then two more, and tossed them out in the yard. “Answers?”

  “Beth, look at me.”

  He drew closer, and she caught the woodsy, faint fragrance of his aftershave. The clean scent of Dial soap. She reached for another faded flower, but instead of it breaking off, the entire stem tore away.

  “You can trust me,” he added quietly.

  She shot a quick glance at him, then picked at the petals of the blossom in her hand. “We’re doing great, thanks to you. The café is ready to open, and the apartment is almost done, too. You’ve done beautiful work.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders, which sent a shiver through her of an entirely different kind. One totally out of place, especially now.

  If he knew, others in Lone Wolf could find out, too, and what might those past accusations do to the future of the café and her job at the clinic? Her ability to provide for Sophie, and to make a new life for them both in Montana? Her financial status was already on rocky ground.

  Joel felt the tension in her shoulders, and saw the rigid set of her jaw. Maybe she was in even more trouble than he’d guessed.

&nbs
p; “You told me about the threatening phone calls.” He turned her around to face him and gently lifted her chin. “The whole town knows about the graffiti incident, and how some jerk trashed your yard. But that’s not the whole story, is it?”

  She bit her lower lip. Her eyes darkened as she met his gaze and then looked away.

  “When the phone rang at the café, I saw how scared you were. You were afraid the caller was someone else, yet you said you had no idea who it could be.”

  “I don’t. Not for sure, anyway.”

  “Any reason why someone would target you?”

  When she didn’t answer, he withdrew the copies of the Tribune articles from his back pocket and handed them to her. “I’d guess this is a pretty good clue.”

  She skimmed the first one, then read it all again more slowly. But instead of fear or guilt, he could only detect anger flashing in her eyes. “Where did you get this?”

  “Walt told me you were asking for a—a—” He looked down at the strange creature at her feet. “Whatever that is, for protection. He was concerned about you, and wanted me to look into the situation. Since I still have friends back in the Detroit PD, I asked one of them to do some checking. If someone was threatening you, I figured it was better to know. Logical?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So you investigated me.”

  “Steve checked your legal history, and you came up fine, actually. Not even a traffic ticket in the past ten years. But he did find these newspaper articles about your husband’s death, and the investigation that followed.”

  She shoved the papers back into his hands. “The auditors at his company said several hundred thousand dollars were missing, and they decided he did it. It sure was convenient, blaming a dead man who couldn’t defend himself.”

  He paused, giving her a chance to collect herself. “Did they question you about all of this?”