Love Under Two Adventurers [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  * * * *

  “Well, we never did think this was going to be easy.”

  Melvin grunted as they stepped out into the sunshine of a San Antonio midday afternoon. He’d come to appreciate Connor Talbot’s dry wit and sense of humor in the weeks they’d been working together.

  It feels like I’ve known the man forever. Mel couldn’t say he’d ever had an experience quite like it. Sometimes he knew what Connor was thinking just from looking at his face. The only thing weirder than that was the fact that Connor could sometimes read his thoughts, too.

  If he was the sort to believe in such things, he’d swear they’d been brothers in a previous life.

  “I had no idea the list of properties would be so large,” Melvin said, “or that it would cover so many counties.”

  “Me neither. But this feels right. I think that bastard didn’t do what you or I would do—make tracks either for another part of the country altogether, or hell, head overseas. I think he hunkered down right here in Texas. I think it was something he’d been planning to do long before the Rhodeses died. When we find him—and we will find him—I’ll bet you he’s within a day’s drive of where he started out from in Austin.”

  “I won’t take that bet because I think you’re right.” Melvin eyed the folder in his hands. “In the meantime we have more than two hundred and fifty properties, in five different counties, to look into. And with limited resources online—because we’re talking up to sixteen years ago when he began his search—it’s going to be slow going.”

  “Maybe we should recruit some help,” Connor said.

  “I say we head over to the River Walk and grab some lunch first,” Mel said. “We can discuss our options over food.”

  In Melvin’s experience, timing was everything, and every once in a while fate stepped in just when he least expected it but when he needed it to the most.

  “See that, Kemp? They let anybody into San Antonio these days, even ex-cops!”

  “It is a free country, Ace.”

  Mel turned around at the familiar-sounding voices. The two men facing him grinned. Mel extended his hand to greet them both. “Well, hell. Second largest city in the state, what are the odds?” Then he turned to Connor. “This is Ace Webster and Kemp Whittier, old friends—they’re also investigators, from over near Divine. Gentlemen, meet Connor Talbot. Connor’s my new business partner.”

  “Ex-military?” Ace asked as he shook Connor’s hand.

  Connor nodded. “Yes, Army Rangers. What gave me away?”

  “Kemp and I are crack investigators,” Ace said.

  Mel grinned. “No offense, pal, but you do carry that look,” he said. “Sort of like a sign that reads, ‘Don’t mess with me.’”

  “Shit, Richardson,” Kemp said, “you carry that same look, and you were only ever a cop, near as I recall.”

  “I guess it’s all the same thing, just a different army and theater of operations,” Connor said.

  “You have a point,” Kemp said.

  “Did I hear you mention lunch?” Ace asked. “We were just headed for some ourselves. Why don’t you join us? Our treat?”

  “Thanks, don’t mind if we do.” Mel grinned. “We can tussle over the check later.”

  “Odds are about even,” Kemp said.

  That was true enough. Maybe they’d toss a coin over it.

  They chose the Lone Star Café San Antonio River, one of Mel’s favorite places from when he lived in town. They perused the menu, ordered food and beer, and sat back to await their meals.

  “I heard congratulations are in order,” Mel said. “I hear y’all got married.”

  Ace and Kemp exchanged a look. Mel figured they were surprised that he knew they’d married the same woman. Ace said, “Thanks, Mel. We’re very happy Summer chose us.”

  “You both look very happy,” Mel said. When Connor nodded, he said, “Actually, we’ve been considering walking the same path, ourselves.”

  “Is that a fact?” Kemp asked.

  Mel recalled that between the two men, Kemp tended to keep his own counsel the most. Today he seemed downright loquacious compared to times past.

  “I hear you had a bit of help from some friends of ours in the fall,” Mel said, “over in Lusty.”

  “We did. Sheriff Adam Kendall and his men came through for us in a pinch,” Ace said. “Didn’t know you knew folks in Lusty, Richardson.”

  “Their Town Trust is one of my best clients,” Mel said. “And as a matter of fact, Caleb Benedict was my training partner when I joined the Rangers.”

  Ace and Kemp were in the same business—investigation and security. Hell, if he wanted a couple more sets of eyes and brains, he couldn’t do much better than to elicit their help. “Actually, it’s a case for the Trust that brought us here today.”

  The waiter brought their beer, and Mel told Ace and Kemp about Ralph Baxter. One thing he recalled vividly about these two men who’d grown up as brothers—they got as pissed off over flagrant injustices done to innocents as any two men Mel had ever met.

  “I hate bastards like that,” Ace said. “And the fact that those two orphans fell through the cracks so badly, that just makes me even madder.”

  Mel nodded. “You know how it is. Sometimes shit does happen, and if there’s no one there to take up for the innocents—” He didn’t finish the sentence because there really was no need.

  The waiter arrived carrying a tray loaded down with a whole lot of great-smelling comfort food. Mel had ordered a smoked pulled pork sandwich with fries. Connor and Kemp both got the Texas Two Pound burgers, and Ace had ordered the brisket sandwich.

  They each took a few moments to tuck into their meals. Normally Mel would have added ketchup for his fries, but he’d asked for—and received—a little extra of their homemade barbeque sauce on the side.

  His first bite was pure heaven, and brought back memories of his time here in this city.

  “So what do you have so far in your search for this Baxter?” Ace asked.

  “Not as much as we’d like,” Connor said. “Mostly due to the time factor, and also because the business records for Rhodes and Baxter Real Estate weren’t ever digitalized.”

  “And we’re finding out that in some jurisdictions, back land transfers haven’t been digitalized, either.” Mel shrugged.

  “In a couple of counties it’s like they just entered everyone who’s on the tax rolls as of activation date and left it at that.” Connor sounded particularly offended, and it was all Mel could do not to smile.

  Ace nodded. “So you have a list of properties that may or may not be the current home of your quarry.”

  “An extensive list. It means checking each one out, individually. And then, if we find him, that’s still not proof of anything,” Mel said. “When we find him, that’s when the real work begins.”

  “If he did murder his accomplice, as you suspect, there’s not much hope of you finding any evidence of that. Is there?” Kemp shrugged. “Like you said, it’s been years.”

  “Your gut telling you something, Richardson?” Ace asked. Then to Kemp he said, “The man used to get these feelings when he was a cop working the city streets, here. His gut was downright uncanny, sometimes.”

  Mel laughed. “Just cop instincts, Ace, nothing supernatural.” He sat back. He’d pretty much inhaled his lunch. He picked up his bottle of beer. There weren’t more than a couple mouthfuls left. The waiter arrived, took his plate and offered him a refill on the brew.

  Mel shook his head. “Just coffee, please.” He had a few hours’ drive ahead of him and didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Your cop instincts are telling you what?” Ace asked.

  “First, that he’s closer than we think he is, and has been all these years. And, second, that if we find him, with a little more work, we’ll find evidence of his crimes.”

  “The bad guys don’t always play smart,” Kemp agreed.

  “Underneath it all, I think Baxter is basically jus
t an addict whose disease got the better of him. Only, instead of drugs, that disease was gambling. I think he stayed close because he always had it in his mind to stash himself somewhere, wait for the heat to cool off, then, after enough time had passed he could reemerge, as if nothing had happened.” Mel looked off for a moment, and then he said, “The death of his partner, and being the executor of his estate, was a temptation too juicy to pass up. But it meant he was now hiding from the law, not just a local Austin loan shark. And years of living in limbo has likely taken its toll on him. I’m not sure what we’ll find when we locate the man. But I’m thinking it might not be pretty.”

  Ace nodded. “You could be right. Do you have any parcels of land on your list in either Tarkett or Divine County?”

  Mel nodded. “We do, yes. There’re several.”

  Ace and Kemp exchanged a look. When Kemp nodded, Ace said, “Shoot us the details. We’d be glad to dig around for you.”

  “Thanks, we appreciate it.” Mel sat back as the waiter brought his coffee. “It’ll be good to have a couple more pairs of eyes on this.”

  Half an hour later they were in Connor’s car headed back to Waco when Mel’s cell phone rang.

  “Richardson, here. Hey, Kendall. We were just thinking of swinging by and giving you an update.” He listened for a moment then said, “Sure, you can run something else past us. We should be there in about three hours.”

  He hung up and looked over at Connor.

  “They do keep us busy, don’t they?” he asked. “What is it now?”

  Mel looked at him. “Something that might be right up your alley.”

  “Well now you’ve got me curious.” Then he grinned. “But hey, maybe we’ll be in town long enough to have dinner.”

  “Or take someone to dinner, if she’s not on duty,” Mel said.

  “I think I like that idea better.”

  “Yeah, so do I.”

  Chapter 18

  “We were going to do this the day after the party,” Cody said. “And then we let ourselves get sidetracked.” Cody gave her a sly look and then winked.

  We certainly did let ourselves get distracted. A part of her wished they were still back at the cabin, just the three of them, immersed in each other.

  He beat her move to open the door to the museum, and she grinned at him. Last night, Cody had slept through the night without a nightmare. Rebecca was sincerely hoping he’d be able to eventually sleep through every night.

  “Do we start without him?” Cody asked. He followed her inside and stopped in his tracks, immediately captivated by the first photograph that greeted all visitors to the Lusty Historical Museum.

  In the large photograph that had clearly been digitally remastered and enlarged, six people seemed to look right at him, eyes vibrant, lips almost twitching to smile outright.

  “These are the first of us,” Rebecca said. She pointed to each person as she named them. “This is Sarah Carmichael Benedict, and her husbands Caleb and Joshua. Her cousin, Amanda, who married Adam Kendall and Warren Jessop.”

  He looked at the plaque that sited the date, and the photographer, Jeremy Parker Jones.

  “It’s a classic pose of the day, and yet different.”

  “What does your photographer’s eye see?” Rebecca asked. She wondered how akin their individual art actually was.

  “You can see the pride and the love radiating from them all. The men are very proprietary toward their women. Sarah’s smile rivals the Mona Lisa’s. You just know that she’s…content.” He paused. “Amanda looks like she’s a real firecracker. She’d have to be, married to two men who are also lovers. Incredible.”

  Rebecca didn’t know if he meant the photo or the situation. She led him into the museum, proper. “I’ve always loved this picture,” she said. “This tells me so much about who Sarah, Caleb, and Joshua were as people.”

  Cody leaned in and read the small brass plaque. “Who were the Mendezes?” He no sooner asked that than his eyes widened and he answered his own question. “Their staff?”

  “Sarah thought of them as members of the family. Family lore is that when Jose and Maria became too old to work, Sarah insisted they remain in their small house, which had always been their home. The Mendez children and grandchildren, for the most part, remained in Lusty, too, and over the years, there were marriages between them and the rest of the family.”

  “I don’t see any pictures of the others with staff,” he said.

  “Amanda, Warren, and Adam didn’t have any staff. Sarah likely wouldn’t have had any, either, but they were here when she came—when she inherited the house. She couldn’t let them go, because this was their home.”

  “Ah, yes, the blackguard who’d married her for her inheritance,” Cody said. “Greg told me the story on our drive here from Dallas. I was beyond tired, but some of it soaked in.”

  Rebecca grinned. “We’re very proud of our history here in Lusty, because six people decided to follow their hearts—and then made it possible for their descendants to do the same, if they chose to.”

  As they continued on, Rebecca heard the sound of a door closing. She grinned, and looked at her watch. Four minutes. Of course, her Aunt Anna would have known they were there as soon as the door opened. Morgan and Peter had installed new state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, so that her aunt could see anyone who came into the museum.

  “Hello, hello,” Anna Jessop came around the corner, a big smile on her face.

  “Wow, Mrs. Santa Claus!” Cody said softly.

  Rebecca laughed and hugged her aunt. Cody’s words were familiar ones, as practically everyone who met Anna Jessop remarked on the similarity. “Aunt Anna, this is—”

  “Oh, you don’t have to tell me who this is. I am so sorry I missed that welcome-home party. I was a little under the weather, and Jackson and Craig had me tucked into bed and sipping chicken soup in a thrice.” She smiled. “I’m so pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Harper.”

  Rebecca wanted to laugh. Her aunt had made another conquest, if the smile on Cody’s face was any indication.

  “It’s just Cody, ma’am,” he said. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Oh, none of that ma’am stuff. I’m just Aunt Anna—well, to everyone but my own children. I don’t have any grandchildren as yet,” she sighed. “I do wish someone would do something about that. The triplets are still in California, writing their screenplays, and both Ed and Warren seem married to their careers. Not that being EMTs isn’t a very important calling.” Aunt Anna sighed. “Nancy, of course, is busy in DC working to take care of our environment. She was home at Christmas, and I don’t believe she’s of a mind to have any children, ever.” Aunt Anna shook her head, and then she gave them a smile. “Ah, well. Each of us has to choose our own way, don’t we? That’s what this town is all about—being free to choose to live—and love—however we will.”

  Cody tilted his head to one side as he regarded her. “That’s what I’m discovering, Aunt Anna. You realize that makes Lusty, Texas, a very unique place.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Anna Jessop said. “Do you know what? I reckon there are other places, too, in this world where folks feel safe and special. It’s too grand an ideal not to have been pursued at some point or other—and successfully, too—in other places.”

  Cody said, “God, I hope so. I’d like to think so.”

  Aunt Anna smiled, and patted his hand. “Then think so, Cody. No one can stop you. Now”—she turned and spread her hands—“enjoy our museum, and the artifacts and photographs—although most of those are older than even I am. It’s been a good long while since anyone’s perused our town with a camera, and the talent, to tell our story.”

  Rebecca watched Cody as he followed Aunt Anna’s progress back to her office. After a long moment, he said, “I almost feel as if meeting her has been a life-changing experience.”

  Rebecca slid her arm around Cody’s and leaned close. “Peter says that Aunt Anna is a secret
weapon the Pentagon would be wise to latch onto.”

  “He has a point.”

  She chuckled and led him around the perimeter of the main room. Then came that moment she always liked, when whoever was touring the place for the first time saw what the family called the Fourth of July photograph. That large side yard at the Big House was still used for the family’s picnic in the summer. But on this occasion, the Benedicts and Jessop-Kendalls had two guests, who’d arrived for a week’s visit.

  “Now I am impressed. I recognize the two gentlemen, too, because when you delve into the history of photography, you see pictures of them,” Cody said. “Mostly because they were quite famous at the time when photography was starting to become a more common art form.”

  “They’re listed on the plaque as family friends,” Rebecca said, “but it kind of goes deeper than that. Lore is that Bat Masterson played a key role in helping Caleb and Joshua protect Sarah from the man Maddox had sent to kill her. And, of course, since the first Adam Kendall was a Texas Ranger, there was a time or two those more famous erstwhile lawmen were at his side.”

  “I would love to hear the whole of the family saga. You know, I bet it would sell well. Has anyone ever thought to write all that down?”

  Rebecca smiled. “Sarah and Amanda wrote journals, as did Joshua and Warren. They’re only for family members to read.” Rebecca frowned. “Let me clarify that. The women in the family read the ladies’ journals, and the men read the men’s.”

  “Kind of sexist,” Cody said. She knew he was teasing.

  “It really is, but it’s also family tradition. Who can argue with that?”

  Cody stopped at one display case and looked down at the contents. “That looks like a real gold coin.”

  “It is.” She didn’t say anything more, just let him read the carefully worded explanation of the contents.

  “These belonged to the Jessop-Kendalls.” He looked up at her. “Your great-great grandmother named her knife, ‘Pocahontas’?”