He harrumphed. “I’d like to meet this Anderson dude and tell him how far out of your way you went for him last night. And today.”
“Don’t say that. And if you really want to meet him, you can. In about twenty minutes. The Andersons are elderly. Mrs. Anderson has cancer. They’re in a desperate situation. They need all they can get from the sale of their property to pay their bills and to live. I promised Bob Culpepper I’d help them. Since Ed Anderson had already started a dialogue with Hayes, it made the most sense to go after the bird in hand rather than start from scratch looking for another buyer. I had to wrap things up fast or I’d have been letting Bob down as well as the Andersons. I had to get Hayes’ signature before he cooled off.”
Doug calmed, begrudgingly admiring her even more, but he said, “One thing’s for damn sure. He wasn’t gonna cool off looking at you.”
“Where do you get off making cynical remarks about anything I do? I'm not the one with the reputation of a satyr. It was a business decision. I could’ve waltzed around in a conventional way with somebody like Hayes for weeks or months before accomplishing what I did in the past twenty-four hours. I’ve been studying him since I got the listing from Andersons and the invitation to Bob’s party. One thing I learned about him is how affected he is by attractive women. He’s a dirty old man. I determined that the fastest way to get it the deal done was to ...well, to—”
“To make him think he was going to get a piece of the great Alex McGregor?”
“It would never have gone that far. I didn’t make him any promises. But if I would have, so what? Is he any different from you? You’ve been undressing me with your eyes since we met and you’re trying to get me into bed. At least Hayes has never been rude and insulting to me.”
She raised her palms, closed her eyes and shook her head. “None of it concerns you. Why do you even care?”
“Dammit, because…”
Because why? He knew what he felt, but he couldn't imagine it rolling off his tongue.
She looked directly at him and their eyes locked. An intangible current passed between them. After a few seconds, he turned away and resumed staring out the window, seeing nothing. “Cover up your tits. I’m not impressed. And I don’t care. You’re right. It doesn’t concern me.”
“Then why are we arguing?”
“You’re slick, Alex. I’ll say that for you. Pretty slick. Somehow you’ve turned this around so that I feel like I’ve done something I need to apologize for.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said softly. “Look, I’m a hard worker. I don’t want you to think I achieve success because of—well, because I earned it any way except through honest effort.”
He turned back and faced her. “I could ask you the same question you just asked me. Why do you care what I think?”
Seconds of silence passed as she stared at him. “I don’t care what you think,” she snapped. “I'm just tired of arguing with you.” She shifted back to a driving position and cranked the ignition. “Look, it’s a three-hour drive back to Callister. Can we please just cool it until we can part company?”
“You bet,” Doug said. He leaned his head against the head rest and closed his eyes.
In what seemed like a few minutes, he opened them and saw that they were speeding along a country road into the foothills outside Boise, past rolling orchards and farmhouses. Soon she pulled into the driveway of a twenties-vintage home. An old man met her on the front porch. She handed him a copy of the letter she had brought from Winfield’s office. The shriveled-up old guy dug his handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped his eyes.
Doug buzzed down the window and watched and listened to their conversation. Only a first-class ass with no feelings wouldn’t be touched by the tenderness with which she treated the elderly man. Doug’s anger began to sneak away.
After this past twenty-four hours, he knew two things. His head was a mess and his heart was in serious trouble.
Chapter 26
“This is the last decent place to eat lunch between Boise and Callister,” Alex said, pulling into a truck stop.
They hadn’t talked since arguing earlier. She needed gas and intended to eat lunch. If he didn’t want to join her, he could sit outside in the SUV and wait. Outside is where she should have left him when she went into Hayes’ office and avoided the argument altogether.
It went without saying that a man as stubborn as Doug Hawkins wouldn’t appreciate her effort to get Hayes’ signature. Still, a perverse part of her wanted to bask in his jealousy. Having a man feel possessive about her was a new experience.
She popped open the gas cap and scooted out of the Acura. Doug appeared at her side and took the gasoline nozzle from her hand. “Women don’t pump gas when I’m around.”
She smiled inwardly. He was such a caveman. She appreciated him doing it. Her DKNY suit wouldn’t recover from grease or gasoline stains. “Thank you,” she said. “Meet you inside?”
He smiled. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
And just like that, the argument went away.
Inside, before he came in, she paid for the gas and eliminated the opportunity for another squabble. She waited for him before ordering. She ordered grilled chicken, but he asked for a a chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy and rolls. Caveman. She gave him a look.
“That toast and coffee we had for breakfast ran out quite a while back,” he said.
As they ate, she chatted about the real estate business, in which he seemed interested enough to ask relevant questions. She queried him about jury consulting because she had never known anyone who did it. When they finished lunch, he insisted on buying. So did she. They settled with separate checks. But they laughed about it.
As they left the restaurant, a blanket of fatigue fell over her. Tension had kept her rigid since Friday and the earlier episode dealing with Hayes had drained her. When they reached her SUV, he stepped alongside of her and opened the door. She looked up at him. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in driving.”
He grinned. “I’d prefer it.”
Sure, he would. Superman wouldn’t be content riding as a passenger with a woman driver. She gave him a flat look and handed him keys. “Knock yourself out. Just watch out for livestock on the highway.”
She rounded the SUV’s frontend and seated herself on the passenger side. He climbed behind the wheel, shoved on his aviator sunglasses assumed the role of driver as if he weren’t even surprised at being asked and cranked the engine. “Livestock? What kind of livestock? You’re yanking my chain, right?”
“Wrong. This is an open range state. Livestock has the right-of-way. It could be cattle or sheep either.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said, backing out of the parking slot.
Letting him take the wheel was a gesture of peacemaking, she told him, but in truth, being relieved of the two-and-a-half-hour drive suited her fine.
As he expertly guided the SUV, she settled into the welcoming arms of the gray leather seat, watching the landscape whiz by and letting stress drift away. She thought about the day coming soon when she would no longer participate in charades like the one in which she had been involved for the past twenty-four hours, when she would quit and survival would no longer be a daily clash of wits.
“Car drives nice,” he said. “I like it.”
“Hm. I think I do, too.”
“You traded that red Cadillac in on it?”
“No. The Cadillac is, or was, Charlie’s car. My brokerage partner has a buyer for it, but I’m still hassling getting the title to it. Red tape.”
“Ah.”
The message in his comment made her laugh. “You thought that car was mine?” She laughed again.
“Okay, okay. How would I know any different?”
“That car was important to Charlie. I can’t even begin to tell you why.”
They rode in silence for a few more miles. “ Have fun at the party?” he asked.
“I enjoyed me
eting the senator. Parties like that aren’t my thing, but I go to them when necessary. In my business, networking’s important. And don’t say anything about my dress. How about you? Did you have fun?”
“Those kinds of gatherings aren’t my thing either. I enjoyed visiting with Ralph, but I’d rather camp out in the mountains.”
She laughed. “Me, too.”
His head turned toward her. “Really?”
She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but she heard the surprise in his question. “You looked to be having a good time. You made some new friends. You were surrounded by people all evening….Well…women, that is.” She winced as the words slipped out of her mouth. Now he would read something into what she had said.
“I met a few new people….Women….Nobody I’ll be calling.”
Damn. He thought her jealous. “Perhaps you should. If you’re going to live here, you should get to know people.”
“I’m trying to get to know you. And you’re hardly one to advise somebody to get to know people.”
“Oh, no you don’t. We aren’t going to talk about me.”
“What else is there?”
“You. You could tell me the truth about why you moved to Callister.”
****
Doug’s heart made a thump, as all he had gained with Alex came into jeopardy. Truth. He wasn’t sure of the truth himself. He had left Southern California like a captive raptor freed to return to the wild. “Simple fact. To start over.”
“That might be a fact, but fact and truth are often different.”
She was too damn smart. He wanted her trust and after all that had happened, trying to put her off could be a fatal mistake. He pumped up his courage and opened Pandora’s box. “What do you want to know?”
“I spent a few hours in the Boise library reading old newspapers and—”
“You did what?” Shit! He wanted to yank off his sunglasses and gnaw on them. That she might dig into his California past shouldn’t surprise him. He flicked a glance away from the highway, in her direction.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept your eyes on the road. I don’t want my new SUV to land at the bottom of one of these canyons. You know, I remember when John Bascomb’s son was killed. I sort of casually am acquainted with him and I know Los Angeles politics. I believe the DA was grandstanding when he brought a manslaughter charge against you. It was a waste of taxpayer money considering that he never had a chance of a conviction.”
As those agonizing days came back, Doug felt as if the Acura’s bucket seat had turned to quicksand, sucking him down, into a place he hated going. He couldn’t stop a bitter snort. “That’s what my lawyer said, but when you’ve been indicted and your fate is in the hands of a bunch of lawyers and the court system…well, take my word for it, it’s a scary place to be.”
“According to the newspaper, you’re used to scary places. I read one story where you talked home invaders out of murdering a whole family.”
Oh, yeah. He remembered those lunatic losers. Three days and nights of terror for dozens of people. “What kind of library were you in?”
“Wasn’t that true? Didn’t you do that?”
“But I had control of that one. It’s different when you’re in control.”
“What I didn’t learn from my reading was why John Bascomb hated you so much. You were doing your job and his son’s criminal activities were old news. He was already headed for a bad end. John went after you hard, so there must have been another reason besides his son.”
The woman whose vehicle he drove would see through a lie as if it were cellophane. He didn’t have to be a genius to know that such a misstep at this moment would annihilate the possibility of any future relationship with her. On a wing and a prayer, he stepped to the edge of a steep drop, gripped the steering wheel and gave her an answer. “I had an affair with John Bascomb’s wife. And he found out about it.”
Silence for long seconds while he could hear his heartbeat. She broke it first with an insincere laugh. “Well, that explains some things.”
The SUV seemed colder. “I knew better,” he said. “I kick myself daily.”
“I hope you found it was worth what it cost you.”
“Not for a minute.”
The made a little huff. “I’ve always been amazed at what men will risk for sex.”
“Hey, did you want me to lie? I made a mistake and I can’t undo it. I’ve paid big time. The best I can do is live with it and try to avoid such bad judgment in the future.”
And none of that was a lie. No day went by that he didn’t think of some part of the whole ordeal and regret most of his actions. When she didn’t reply, he added a footnote. “Obviously you’ve never done something that haunted your every waking minute and some of your sleeping ones.
She turned her head and stared out the passenger window. “In truth, I—” Her voice faltered. “Everyone makes mistakes. Let’s move on.”
Doug was grateful. He didn’t know what her words or what her body language might mean. Maybe she carried a deep secret. Whatever. He was glad to move on.
****
A frank, honest answer wasn’t what Alex had expected. As much as the gory details of his past and his affair with the wife of a powerful, married politician might interest her, to delve into it would be an obscene invasion of his privacy. Beyond that, was she prepared to be as open about her own closeted skeletons? In a word, no.
His hand came across the console and covered hers. “Alex, I’m not proud of what I left behind in L.A. If there’s an upside, although I couldn’t see it at the time, it changed my life for the better. It changed me.”
“I can see where it would have.” She removed her hand from beneath his and crossed her arms under her breasts. “According to the newspapers, people all over the country thought you were a hero. You had a fan club.”
“Just part of the insanity. Unfortunately, the fan club didn’t pay my lawyer. The legal fees bankrupted me.”
“I can imagine.”
“There was a point when I believed it would never be resolved, but time has a way of healing things. To answer the question you’re really getting at, the manslaughter charges were dropped and the lawsuits have all been settled except for mine against the City of Los Angeles. Maybe I’ll get my pension back if I live long enough. The bankruptcy has been discharged. Now I’m just broke.”
“But you had the money to buy Stewart’s place.”
“Framing houses. Thank God my right arm wasn’t injured. When I was able, I went back to swinging a hammer. That’s how I made a living when I first moved to Southern California. And I eventually sold my condo for a nice price. An ocean view is worth a lot.”
“So you’re telling me you’re clean as a whistle.”
“I am.” He added a low chuckle. “I’m so clean I squeak when I walk. My life is simple. I’m working on my house and helping out guys like Bob Culpepper.” His quick glance came her way. “And trying to figure out the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met.”
And how many women had heard that line, Alex wondered. As glib-tongued as he was, probably many. Still, she respected, even envied the ease with which he admitted mistakes. She had never been able to be so open.
Soon they saw Callister on the horizon. Kenny Miller and his logging plans barged into her thoughts. “I think I’ve lost the battle for Wolf Mountain,” she said. “In a few weeks, Kenny’s logging equipment will be traveling past my front door. His trucks won’t be far behind.”
“You’re not gonna try to stop him?”
“Short of shooting the bastard, I can’t stop him.”
“Shooting a man is nothing to joke about. We both know that.”
“Who says I’m joking?”
“Don’t say that.”
She sighed, giving up.
“So what happens next?”
“I don’t know yet. Bob’s still trying to come with a legal angle, but after our last conversation, I’m not hopeful.”
Consumed by her dilemma, she barely noticed the city limits sign. They reached the main street and Doug expertly turned onto it. He was a good driver. Hell. Being a cop, he had probably been to driving school. But that thought distracted her for only seconds. “Logging that much timber will take years. If logging trucks are driving past my house every day, I can’t live there. I don’t even want to try. He offered me half a million for the house once. Maybe I’ll just sell it to him and look for somewhere else to live. Maybe I’ll put Callister behind me and go somewhere else.”
“You sure? Sounds like you’d be losing a lot of money.”
Alex had never tallied the total that her obsession with this small town and the old Callister mansion had cost her in dollars and cents. She didn’t want to know. “Yes, but there’s nothing new about that in Callister.”
“I’ve got the solution,” he said, laughing. “You could come live with me. You like to fix up old houses. You could help me fix up mine. I’ve still got years worth of work left to do.”
Of course, he was kidding, but for a silly minute, she thought the suggestion wasn’t such an outrageous idea. Perhaps sharing quarters with Doug Hawkins wouldn’t be half bad. He was an entertaining companion. He had proved he would protect her and she couldn’t keep from wondering how it would feel to share days with a man so—she hated using the word—macho.
Or to share nights with a capable lover. She had no doubt he was a capable lover.
Bringing herself back from dumb musing, she laughed and looked his way. “I’m hardly an ideal roommate. I’ve been alone a long time. I’m selfish. I want everything my way.”
“We all want things our way. It’s the way we are.”
He had an answer for everything. She hesitated, trying to think of a retort that would end this conversation thread. Finally, she said, “Me living with any man is a crazy thought. It isn’t something I need.”
The Love of a Stranger Page 28
