by B. J Daniels
As if listening in on her thoughts, her grandmother leaned forward and began to whisper horrible things in her ear.
Violet tried desperately not to listen. But in the end, she couldn’t keep the words from gnawing their way in.
Stop being that poor old-maid daughter of Arlene Evans and show them what you can do. Make it so no one in the county ever forgets the name Violet Evans.
LANTRY LIFTED AN EYEBROW AS IF he realized what it had taken Dede to hire a private investigator to spy on her husband.
“There was another woman,” Lantry guessed.
Dede nodded. “Frank had been meeting with a woman named Tamara Fallon. They were clearly close, probably having an affair, although the only photographs the private investigator was able to get was of them arguing and later hugging outside a restaurant.
“I know that doesn’t prove anything,” she said, hurrying on before Lantry could point out the obvious. “Clearly the two were involved in some way, and that was enough for me.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t try to fight for your marriage and your husband.”
“You think you know me.” She smiled ruefully and shook her head. “No sexy nightgown or romantic dinner was going to get my husband back. I needed information. The name Fallon had sounded familiar. I realized I’d seen it somewhere recently—but not in any of Frank’s e-mails or correspondence. I found the name in the newspaper. Tamara Fallon and her husband, Dr. Eric Fallon, had recently been burglarized.”
Lantry let out a low curse. She had his attention now. “Some very expensive jewelry had been taken. I remember the story in the newspaper, now that you mention it. A diamond necklace was taken that was said to be worth over a million dollars.”
“What wasn’t in the newspapers was that the Fallons were in the process of having a new security system installed. The P.I. had discovered that Frank had been in the security-system business before he met me. A woman named Tammy Lundgren had been his bookkeeper.”
“Tamara Fallon is Tammy Lundgren.”
She nodded. “Even more interesting, the reason Frank’s business had folded was that he was being investigated because of a string of burglaries in houses where they’d either put in the security systems or had bid on the projects.”
“Let me guess. You confronted Frank with what you’d learned.”
“He denied everything.” The memory still hurt her. “He told me I was crazy for even suspecting he might be involved with another woman—or in anything illegal.”
“And, of course, you told him about the private investigator and showed him the photos of him and Tammy.”
It annoyed her that she’d obviously done what other women faced with divorce had done.
“I wanted to help him, and as long as he kept denying there wasn’t a problem…” She shrugged. “A mistake in retrospect.”
“He had to have tried to explain the incriminating snapshots of him and Tammy Fallon.”
“Frank said Tammy had called him out of the blue. She was having marital problems and needed a shoulder to cry on. Frank swore he told her he couldn’t help her. Which could explain why they appeared to be arguing in the photos. He was furious that I’d spied on him and, worse, thought he was having an affair. He said he hadn’t heard from her since.”
“Did you believe him?”
Dede shrugged. “Things only got worse between us after that. Frank would get calls from either Ed or Claude. I would hear him arguing with them. And sometimes I would answer the phone and the party on the other end would hang up.”
“You think Frank had something to do with the Fallon burglary?”
“Why would he risk everything? He was successful. He had a reputation to uphold in Houston. He didn’t need the money.”
“Unless these people from his past had some kind of leverage over him.”
She nodded slowly. “But if that was the case, then I fear Frank double-crossed them.”
A loud noise outside the ranch house made them both start.
Chapter Five
Violet turned on the wipers and leaned forward in the driver’s seat, her dead grandmother forgotten as she watched people come out of the Tin Cup.
The snow wasn’t as deep, the storm as strong, here in the Milk River Valley as it had been farther to the south nearer the Little Rockies. But of the several dozen vehicles parked around the restaurant on the hill, all covered with snow and virtually indistinguishable, which one was her mother’s? Maybe the rich fiancé had lent Arlene that big SUV he’d picked her up in earlier.
She gripped the wheel as she saw the figure of her mother, arms full of presents and flanked by other women carrying even more gifts, hurrying out. Arlene Evans hadn’t gone far when one of the SUVs parked on the edge of the road started up and drove toward her.
“The fiancé?” Violet barely got the words out of her mouth when the driver flashed his headlights and Arlene was caught in the glare. A thought struck Violet like a punch: her mother looked happy. She couldn’t ever remember her mother being happy.
Violet swore as she watched the man get out and help Arlene load all her presents into the car. Seeing how happy her mother was, seeing this man come to rescue his woman, all of it filled Violet with conflicting emotions that roiled inside her.
“Something wrong?” Roberta asked, blinking as she sat up and looked down at all the lights from the vehicles leaving the party.
“I should have known he’d pick her up,” Violet said as she shifted into gear but didn’t turn on the headlights. “This is even better than I planned. We’ll take out both of them.”
Roberta shrugged her disinterest. “I thought we were going to chase her down and pull her out of her car and—”
“You might want to buckle up,” Violet interrupted as she slammed her foot down on the gas. She had positioned the stolen SUV in just the right spot. Ahead she had a clear view of the road out to the highway.
“This is another one of your bad ideas,” Grandma said from the backseat. “Pure self-indulgence, and what is it going to accomplish, huh?”
“Satisfaction, you old hag,” Violet snapped and hit the gas, anticipating the moment her mother saw her behind the wheel—the moment of impact.
AT THE SOUND OUTSIDE, LANTRY moved to the front window to part the curtains and look out. A large plastic garbage container cartwheeled through the snow to disappear over a rise.
Just for a moment, all Dede’s gloom and doom about their lives being in danger had seemed real. Too real.
Lantry realized he was tired and irritable from lack of sleep, worn thin from the cold and this situation.
“While all this is fascinating, Dede,” he said as he turned from the window, his heart still jumping a little, “it doesn’t explain why anyone would want either of us dead.”
“I told you Frank called me at the mental hospital in Texas. What I didn’t tell you was that Frank told me he was in serious trouble. He’d left a package with someone he had to get back. If he didn’t, they were going to kill him. If Frank had something to leave for safekeeping, he would have left it with someone he trusted.”
Lantry realized where she was going with this. “If you’re thinking he left this package with me—”
“Frank trusted you. You’d done well for him. He had to have given it to you. I’m not the only one who believes that. What other reason could there be for these men to want you dead?”
Lantry shook his head, remembering the last time he’d seen Frank Chamberlain. Frank had kept looking at his watch, complaining about the air-conditioning being too low and mopping his brow. He’d been nervous as hell and had made a point of sitting facing the door.
He’d thought Frank was worried Dede would show up and make a scene or, worse, shoot him.
Maybe that’s all it had been.
Or maybe Dede was right. Frank had been between a rock and a hard place because of Tammy Fallon—and because his wife had found out about his past. A man with secrets, some of which were co
ming to light. Did that explain why he’d had Dede put in a mental institution?
“If Frank had left some package with someone, why didn’t he just go get it himself?”
She shook her head. “I’ve tried reaching him, but there hasn’t been any answer, and his voice mail is full.”
Lantry didn’t like the sound of this and could tell that Dede was worried about her ex. Had Frank tried to call him? When Lantry had taken his leave of absence from the business, he’d had his secretary, Shirley, shield him from all the day-to-day business.
Shirley was a bulldog when it came to protecting him from stressed-out, erratic clients, since almost all divorce clients were on the emotional edge.
“I’m sorry, but Frank didn’t give me anything.” That in itself was a little odd now that Lantry thought about it.
His clients often gave him “thank-you” gifts. Usually a bottle of rare Scotch or bourbon or a box of expensive chocolates. Frank Chamberlain hadn’t even thanked him.
“Frank wouldn’t have just given it to you. He would have hid it in a gift or—”
“He didn’t give me anything,” Lantry said, seeing that she had pinned all her hopes on this.
Dede looked crestfallen and uncertain. “I was so sure…”
Lantry couldn’t say what made him do it—even later when he had too much time to think about it. She’d just looked so crushed he hadn’t been able to help himself. He had smelled the scent of the soap, her hair still damp, the cap of curls framing that angelic face and those big blue eyes filled with pleading…. He’d weakened.
He hooked a hand around her slim neck and pulled her to him. Her blue eyes widened in surprise. His gaze went to her mouth, the full lips trembling slightly as he dropped his mouth to hers.
The kiss was gentle and soft, tender, the taste of her as sweet as he’d imagined it would be.
THE VEHICLE CAME OUT OF THE storm running full bore, no headlights, no chance to avoid it.
Arlene saw the cloud of snow an instant before the SUV came flying out at her. She screamed. Hank sped up. The vehicle missed Arlene’s door and instead glanced off the back rear panel of Hank’s bigger SUV, the impact jolting Arlene into silence.
The force of the crash spun them around and into the deep snow at the edge of the frozen pond. The big SUV came to a rest at an odd angle.
“Hank?” Arlene cried as she looked over at her fiancé. He unsnapped his seat belt and reached under the seat, coming out with a pistol as the vehicle that had hit them sped off down the road to the highway.
“Hank! No!” she cried, grabbing his arm as he started to open his door and get out.
He met her gaze, held it for a moment, then put the gun back under the seat and slid over to take her in his arms.
“Are you all right?” he whispered against her hair.
“I’m fine.” She shuddered. Her world felt as if it had fallen away, leaving her teetering with no solid ground. “It was Violet.” Her eldest daughter. The daughter that had resembled her. The daughter she’d failed.
She began to cry. Hank unsnapped her seat belt and took her in his arms, the only place she’d ever felt safe.
“It’s going to be all right,” Hank whispered. “I promise you. It’s going to be all right.”
But Arlene knew better.
“I should have taken more precautions,” Hank was saying.
“We have to postpone the wedding.”
“No. No one is going to keep me from marrying you. You have my word on that. Violet isn’t going to spoil this for us.”
Arlene felt the lights of the other vehicles coming from the party wash over them.
“Do you believe me?” Hank asked.
“You don’t know Violet. She won’t stop until—”
He looked into her eyes, forcing her to meet the intensity of his gaze. “You and I are getting married Saturday.”
She stared into his handsome face and felt his strength in the arms around her. She nodded as she heard car doors slam and people calling to them. Everyone would know soon enough that Violet was on the loose again. God help them all.
LANTRY SEEMED TO COME TO HIS SENSES almost at once.
“We should get some sleep,” he said to Dede as he drew back from the kiss, his thumb skimming over her porcelain cheek.
She nodded slowly but said nothing. Her tongue touched her upper lip. She couldn’t believe he’d just kissed her.
Dede shivered, hugging herself, chilled by the surge of emotions coursing through her.
She’d wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her. She silently cursed herself. She’d been ready to fall into Lantry Corbett’s arms.
That just proved how desperate she felt. How afraid. Lantry Corbett was still the divorce lawyer who everyone said would eat his own young.
It was just hard to remember that since it had been a good-looking, lanky cowboy who’d just kissed her. And worse, she’d always had a weakness for cowboys.
And when Lantry was kind and compassionate toward her, she had let down all her defenses. Worse, she’d welcomed the comfort of his kiss, his arms around her.
He tossed more wood on the fire and straightened, looking uneasy. “We’re both exhausted and not thinking straight.”
She nodded, but she knew it was over. Even if the phone lines stayed down for another day or so, the plows would come through in the morning and see Lantry’s pickup in the ditch. It was just a matter of time before she was behind bars—or, worse, on her way back to the mental hospital, where Claude would be waiting for her.
She’d been so sure Frank had given whatever it was he’d been hiding to Lantry. The worst part was that Ed and Claude also believed Lantry had it. Just as they believed she knew something and had become a threat they weren’t willing to live with.
As she looked at Lantry, she realized that she’d failed not only Frank, but now this cowboy.
LANTRY FELT A CHILL AT THE defeated look on Dede’s face. “We’ll figure something out in the morning.”
A rueful smile curled her lips as her gaze met his.
“I’m not going to turn you in.”
She shook her head. “I heard the weather report on the radio.”
He had wondered if she’d heard it earlier. Apparently she had.
“In the morning, the blizzard will have stopped. A plow will come down that road and see your pickup. I’m sure your brother already has everyone in the county looking for you—just like you said.” She sighed. “We both know I’ll be on my way back to the mental hospital before the sun sets.”
She started to turn away, but he touched her arm to turn her back to him.
He tried to find some words of comfort for her, but was at a loss. All of this had him feeling confused and unsure. He could see how much she was counting on him having whatever package Frank might have left behind. Her worry for Frank still amazed him.
“We’ll figure something out in the morning,” he repeated and saw disappointment well in her eyes before she turned away again.
She was right about all of it. He was counting on them being found in the morning. At first he’d told himself that all of this was merely the fictional fabric of Dede Chamberlain’s demented mind.
He no longer believed that. Dede needed help all right, but not the kind she would get at the mental hospital. He would do everything in his power to get her out of there. Once he’d told Shane everything Dede had told him about Frank and the Fallon burglary…
It wouldn’t be easy without some kind of proof, though, and unfortunately Lantry knew only too well how slowly the legal system’s wheels turned. If he believed Dede, that her life was in danger—maybe especially in the mental hospital—then how could he let her be taken back there?
He should never have kissed her. He questioned his judgment. Had he bought in to all of this because of that face of hers? Those eyes? The way she looked at him with all that hope?
Frank hadn’t given him anything for safekeep
ing. Dede was mistaken. How much more was she mistaken about?
He heard her moving around upstairs in the bedroom he’d told her she could use. He heard the creak of the bedsprings, then silence. She wasn’t crazy enough to try to make a run for it in this weather, was she?
But maybe freezing to death in the storm was the least of Dede Chamberlain’s worries.
If she wasn’t delusional, if someone really was trying to kill her, then sending her back to the mental hospital was a death sentence.
So how could he send her back there? And if she was right, then he’d better start worrying about his own hide, he thought with a curse as he remembered what his friend had told him about the steering mechanism on the Lamborghini.
Frowning, he moved to the window and pulled back the curtains to stare out at the storm.
You were his lawyer. You got him everything he wanted in the divorce. He trusted you.
Dede had asked him if Frank had given him something. He realized it had been a lie when he’d said no.
Frank had given him something. A wake-up call. Now, after all these years of living up to his reputation as a cold-blooded, merciless lawyer, it had come back to haunt him.
Snow blew past the window horizontally to pile in drifts along the road. An even bigger storm raged inside him.
Dede was right. A snowplow would be coming through sometime tomorrow. The driver would see the pickup in the ditch. It would be just a matter of time before the sheriff’s department would be notified and he and Dede would be found.
Even with a lot of legal maneuvering, he wouldn’t be able to keep Dede from being sent back to the mental hospital—at least temporarily. A mental evaluation would be required to decide if she should be charged with the incident at the jail.
He shook his head as he dropped the curtain and went back to the fire to curl up on the couch. As exhausted as he was, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep, not with his thoughts as wild as the weather raging outside the farmhouse.
