by Day Leclaire
“A history that didn’t end well,” she pointed out. “You have every reason not to help us and damn few reasons to go along with this.”
“Precisely.”
He allowed the word to linger until she released a sigh. “I have two goals, Alex. The first is to help my father repay the money he owes. I guarantee someone will loan me the money. My second goal is to prove that my father is innocent of the arson fires and find the person who’s actually guilty.”
“Not a wise move, Becca. In fact, it’s a downright dangerous one.”
“Really? There’s a way you can stop me.” She tapped the deed. “Accept my offer and go with me to visit Darius so he can explain why he thinks my father is complicit in these fires. Help me figure out the identity of the guilty party. Otherwise, I’m taking my offer elsewhere.”
His mouth carved into a cynical smile. “I thought you weren’t going to approach your friends.”
“I’m not. But since El Gato has a vested interest in all this, perhaps he’ll be willing to help me.”
“Absolutely not!” Alex bit out.
She could tell that the words escaped before he’d had time to think better of them, or he’d never have given her so much leverage in their little skirmish. She offered him a gentle smile and waited. It didn’t take long. He snatched off his hat, flung it into the dirt at his feet and swore. She suspected that if he’d cursed in English, she’d have been quite shocked.
“I take it that means you agree?” she dared to ask.
He shot her a black glare. “Let me make myself clear, Rebecca. You are not going to ask Paulo Rodriquez for anything, particularly not a loan.”
Interesting. She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t understand. I thought he was your friend.”
“He was. Is. We grew up together, were close childhood friends. Until recent events, I’d have said we were still friends. But since it was Paulo who helped put your father in his current predicament, you’d be wise to stay well away from him.”
She didn’t disagree. In fact, she’d deliberately used the name just to goad him. Now he’d roused her curiosity. “Why shouldn’t I approach El Gato?”
His mouth tightened, a clear warning signal. “Because I don’t know what he wants from your father. Until I do, it isn’t safe for you to put yourself between them. And it sure as hell isn’t wise to give Rodriquez leverage over you.” His gaze swept over her, the sensation almost as tantalizing as a touch. To her dismay it elicited the same reaction, a deep welling of heat and desire, one it took every ounce of willpower to conceal from his discerning eyes. “Nor should you give me that sort of leverage.”
“Just out of curiosity, would you use it to hurt me?” She couldn’t resist the question, any more than she could deny her interest in his response.
“I’d rather not find out.” He bent to pick up his hat, the set of his face making it clear he’d reached a decision. “I’ll take you to see Darius. Maybe he can talk some sense into you. At the very least he can give you a general idea why we think your father is behind the arson fires.”
“This isn’t just about your vendetta against my father, is it?” she asked in dismay. “You really believe he’s guilty, don’t you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I don’t doubt for an instant that he’s guilty as sin.”
After taking a few minutes to give instructions to Hank, followed by a call to Darius, eliciting the information that the security consultant was at the club, Alex gestured toward her car. “Shall we go together or separately?”
“Together,” she decided.
That way she’d have time to further discuss the situation with him—or rather, argue. And if she were brutally honest with herself, she’d also admit that arriving together at the club as a couple would be far less traumatic than enduring the potential stares and whispers from the members if she arrived on her own. The uncomfortable thought gave rise to an even more uncomfortable realization.
She waited until they were clear of his drive before asking a question that left her feeling equally embarrassed and ashamed. “When Dad resigns, the board will want my resignation, too, won’t they?”
Alex hesitated before replying. “I don’t see why they would.”
“You know why,” she whispered, not daring to look his way.
“We’ll worry about it if it happens.”
We. That single word gave her hope. He wasn’t totally immune to her or to what she was going through. Maybe she could convince him to help her, to get to the truth. If that proof led to her father, so be it. But she was certain, with every fiber of her being, that as guilty as her father was of embezzlement, he was innocent of arson.
The fact that his fate rested in the hands of men who would just as soon see Sebastian Huntington in jail as get at that truth, couldn’t be taken lightly. But somehow, someway, she’d find a means to convince them to put aside their animosity and find the actual person responsible.
Nervous dread swept over her as they approached the entryway to the club. “What is Darius going to tell me?” she asked as calmly as she could manage.
“That your father is guilty.”
She gave him a brief, searching glance. “I’m serious, Alex. What incontrovertible proof has Darius found?”
“He isn’t going to share that with you, Becca.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because it would undermine the D.A.’s legal efforts to prosecute your father.” He shifted in the leather seat, angling so he could look at her. “Fair warning. There isn’t going to be any plea bargaining this down. When we get all the evidence we need, the guilty party is going to jail. End of story.”
She understood on an intellectual level that Alex had good cause to feel that way. But this was her father, the man who’d loved and protected her, who’d comforted her when her mother had died. The man who’d raised her and taught her right from wrong. Tears pricked her eyes as she acknowledged his flaws, the incredible distance he’d stepped over the line between honesty and dishonesty, a line he’d once taught her was intransigent.
She refused to believe he’d fallen so far that he’d put the lives of men and livestock, who could have been injured by the blaze at El Diablo, in jeopardy. Parking the car beneath the shade of a wide-flung cottonwood tree she drew in a deep breath, fighting to find some sort of balance amidst the emotional seesaw she’d been on the past forty-eight hours. Was it only two days ago that she’d arrived here to have lunch with Kate? It seemed like an eternity.
“Are you ready?”
The sheer gentleness of the question nearly proved her undoing. Tears flooded her eyes, tears she suppressed with single-minded determination. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead while she struggled for control. She needed to put her emotions aside and remain focused on her goals. Otherwise, she’d fall apart and there would be no one left willing to lift a finger to keep her father out of jail. She snatched another quick breath and that’s when she felt it.
It was the lightest of touches. Just a fleeting caress along the curve of her cheek. Memories swamped her at the familiar gesture. How many times in the past had Alex comforted her in just that way, lifted her during difficult times with a simple reassuring stroke of his hand? The fact that he’d offer it now, when they were so at odds, meant more than she could ever express.
Energy and sheer obstinacy flowed through her, lending her the strength she so desperately needed. Her chin firmed and she turned toward him, every scrap of grit and purpose concentrated on the goal at hand. “I’m ready,” she told him. “I want to know just what we’re up against.”
She could see his conflicted response to her comment. Part of him—no doubt a reluctant part—wanted to reassure her, while the other intended her to understand the futility of her hopes. He blew out his breath in a sigh. “I’m afraid you’re in for a world of disappointment.”
“Let’s find out.”
To her dismay, his words proved prophetic. Darius didn’t ha
ve any particular ax to grind. His approach was simple: What evidence had he uncovered, and what possible conclusions did that evidence allow him to draw? He took her through it with matter-of-fact precision, his attitude professional, logical, but with an edge of compassion that caused Rebecca to realize that Summer Martindale had chosen wisely when she’d eloped with Darius.
The proof he’d compiled against Cornelius Gentry was formidable. Even so, it wasn’t direct or even circumstantial proof against Sebastian Huntington, as she was quick to point out. Gentry could have been acting on his own.
“That’s possible,” Darius conceded. “Though considering the nature of the man, it’s unlikely. Until he’s found, we won’t know for certain.”
“He’s disappeared?” Rebecca asked in concern.
Alex didn’t bother to hide his cynicism. “Most likely, he was paid to disappear.”
She rounded on him. “And you believe my father paid him?”
“It would be in his best interest.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” She’d gotten their attention with that simple statement. A twinge of hope stirred, along with a hint of relief. The more she considered it, the more certain she grew. “I’m serious. Think about it. My father, in effect, gambled away TCC funds by investing them with Paulo Rodriquez, right?”
Both men nodded.
“If he’d had any spare money, he’d have repaid the club so he wouldn’t get caught and accused of embezzlement. So where did he find the money to make Gentry disappear? I know the man.” She couldn’t conceal her shiver of dislike. “He would require some serious money to go away.”
“What do you mean you know him?” Alex asked sharply.
She hesitated before admitting, “I’ve had a few run-ins with him.” Both men fixed her with identical looks, and she caved beneath the joint pressure. “He was too familiar. Cocky. Arrogant. And when I gave him a verbal slap, he laughed at me. He told me my father would never fire him.”
Darius groaned. “That doesn’t help build a case for your father’s innocence, Rebecca.”
“The reverse, in fact,” Alex added.
“What? Why?” she asked in alarm.
“Your father destroyed my family when I dared to touch you. I assume Gentry knew what your father had done to us?” Alex asked with surprising compassion.
She moistened her lips. “He knew. He said my father would never fire him the way he had Carmen.”
The touch of pity in Alex’s gaze totally unnerved her. “If Gentry was that certain of his position, he must have had something on your father. Something serious. If he set the blazes at your father’s instruction, he’d have reason for that sort of confidence.”
Four
I t took Rebecca a moment to absorb Alex’s comment. The instant she did, her breath caught in a gasp.
“No.” She shook her head, adamant. “No, that can’t be it. Gentry must have known about the money. Thought he could use that as leverage.”
“How?” Alex persisted. “It’s not likely your father would have mentioned it to him.”
“Maybe he overheard a phone conversation between my father and Rhymes.” She could hear the desperation in her voice. “There could be any number of ways Gentry could have gotten hold of the information. Besides, what possible motivation could my father have for setting fire to Brody Oil and Gas, or your barn, Alex?”
“I explained this to you the other night,” he said, making his point with as much relentless logic as she’d used on them. “To keep all of us fighting among ourselves so we wouldn’t notice the missing money until he’d had time to replace it. The fires were simply a delaying tactic.”
“I’m telling you, he didn’t do it.” But their certainty roused another worry. “What happens if the police find Gentry and he points his finger at my father? It would be his word against Dad’s.”
He and Darius exchanged a brief, telling look before Alex responded. “The word of an embezzler against the word of his employee.” He put it in terms that had her wincing. “Assuming Gentry doesn’t have indisputable proof, it could go either way with a jury. But if I were Gentry’s lawyer, I’d pound home the fact that Huntington is a thief, and a desperate one, at that. That in his position as employer, he brought considerable pressure to bear on Gentry to set the fires and promised to protect him with the Huntington name and reputation. Since the fires only caused property damage without harm to life, I suspect Gentry could get a reduced sentence in exchange for his testimony against your father.”
Rebecca wondered if she looked as shell-shocked as she felt. On some level she’d thought she’d walk in here and discover it had all been a hideous mistake. That a simple conversation would clear the air. At the very least, she anticipated getting some idea of who might have done this. The fact that the evidence pointed straight at Gentry would have been cause for celebration, if they weren’t so determined to link her father to his foreman.
“How do I prove Dad didn’t do this?” she asked. Again, the two men exchanged glances and her anger sparked. “Look at it from my position. Assume he’s innocent. There must be a way of proving that.”
“We won’t know anything until Gentry is found,” Darius replied with stark simplicity.
She shook her head, her desperation growing with each moment that passed. “It might be too late by then. He may have figured he could use Dad as his scapegoat if he ever got caught. We need to have our own defense lined up in advance.”
“In that case, I recommend you and your father hire the best lawyer you can afford.”
Afford. The word impacted like a slap. She could tell Darius had said all he intended. And though he radiated patience and empathy, there was nothing more he could do for her. In fact, he’d probably said more than he should have, considering he was one of those building a case against her father. She forced herself to concede the inevitable. There wasn’t any advantage to dragging this uncomfortable meeting out any further.
“Thank you, Darius,” she replied. “I appreciate your frankness.”
“No problem.”
She would have left then, but Alex stopped her with a touch of his hand and addressed Darius. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you and Summer,” he said. “I’d like to throw a small party for the two of you. I thought I’d invite the Brody brothers and their wives, Justin Dupree and my sister, and Kevin and Cara Novak. Since you eloped, none of us have had the chance to celebrate your marriage.”
Darius regarded Alex with surprise and a touch of puzzlement. “That’s very generous of you.”
“But unexpected?”
Darius shrugged. “A bit, given your guest list.”
Alex inclined his head in understanding. “I think we’ve all decided it’s time to put the past behind us and move forward. Celebrating your marriage to Summer provides the perfect opportunity.”
A huge grin spread across Darius’s attractive features. “Thanks, man. I know Summer would really enjoy it. Just tell us when and where, and we’ll be there.”
“It’ll be at El Diablo, and I’ll call you with the exact date. But I’m thinking a couple weeks before Christmas? That’ll make it more festive.”
They all shook hands and then she and Alex returned to the parking lot. Without a word, he took her key from her hand and diverted her path toward the passenger side of the car. She didn’t argue. All the fight had drained out of her. They didn’t speak for the entire time it took to return to his ranch. To her surprise, he didn’t turn down his drive, but continued on toward the back forty. He parked on a small hill that overlooked the bulk of his property, including the ranch house and newly constructed barn. Without a word, the two exited the vehicle and wandered toward the rigorously tended fence line edging the pasture.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” she confessed in a low voice.
“It’s not your problem to fix.”
“I can’t sit by and do nothing. He’s my father.”
“He’s a strong, ruthle
ss man who got himself into this predicament. He can damn well get himself out again.”
She shot him a look. “Is that what you did when your mother was in trouble?” she asked drily. “When Alicia had problems?”
“There’s no comparison. My job was and is to protect my family.”
“Exactly. Just as it’s—”
He cut her off without compunction. “You have it backward, dulzura. It’s your father’s duty to protect you, not the other way around.”
“He has. He’s protected me my entire life. It’s my turn now.”
“You still don’t get it.” Anger underscored Alex’s voice. “He put himself in this mess. He caused it.”
“The embezzlement, yes,” she argued.
“And yet, even with that you’re trying to take the burden from him.”
She turned on him. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“Walk away. Do nothing.”
She dared to touch him. “Alex, please,” she whispered. “Help us. Help me.”
He stilled beneath her hand and she literally held her breath. Then he exploded into motion. Snatching her into his arms, he pulled her into an unbreakable embrace. “Just once I want you to touch me without an ulterior motive.” His voice escaped, low and harsh. “Just once I want you to come into my arms without your father standing between us.”
How could he even think such a thing? “My father isn’t here now.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s with us every minute.” Alex’s mouth twisted. “But you never understood that, did you? So be it. See if you understand this instead.”
He bent his head and took her mouth, consuming her. Memories of the past collided with the actions of the present and merged into a confusing blend of what once had been and what now existed between them. There was sweetness from their long-ago affair. The bitterness of its ending. The lingering passion that ripped through them whenever they came together. And something else. Something more. Something new and tentative.
