As she made her way through the ballroom to the front desk, she caught a glimpse of Denise scurrying across the lobby from the restroom. Joanna searched for her father, and sure enough he sat off in the far corner by the fireplace, the phone glued to his ear.
Thank goodness.
Turning her attention back to Denise, she watched her nemesis punch the elevator button impatiently. By her foul mood, it was clear something had set her off. Joanna took in her appearance. Pretty tasteful for Denise. The white silk dress she wore was a bit longer than Denise’s normal attire, but she’d bet her next paycheck the front was cut down past her belly button. Joanna sighed, about to turn around when she noticed the back hem of the dress. A large irregular stain ran up the left side. No wait. Not a stain. Water spots? From the pool, maybe? Like if you hung your feet over the edge?
Jolts of apprehension ricocheted through her body.
Dad?
She focused on her father across the room. He was oblivious to anything not related to business. If Denise did have plans to harm him, he’d never see it coming.
Chills raced over her skin.
Just as she turned to follow the woman, two men walked in through the front doors, their heads hung low.
Well, if that didn’t beat all. Her lost crew. And they looked like they’d been having fun with alcohol as well.
“Where have you been?” Joanna headed them off before they could slip into the banquet hall and disappear.
“Aww, Jo Jo. We’re sorry. Looks like you managed nicely without us, though.” The older of the two, Jerry, sounded sincere, a hint of relief in his tone, but he kept his eyes from hers. “We’ll help you clean up.”
Keith entered the sliding door and stilled at the sight of the two men, his gaze gravitating to her.
“What happened?” Her hands eased to her hips as she tried to keep the anger at a minimum.
“A man in a ski mask hijacked the truck, that’s what happened.” Jerry went on the defensive. Nothing different there.
“Yes, I know. I found the truck abandoned on the side of the road.”
“You did?” Both men acted truly surprised.
“Had a cop from Bram question me about it.”
“What cop?” A weird expression crossed Keith’s face as he walked to stand by Joanna, his tone dry.
“No one important.” The last thing she needed was for Keith to find out Ryker Kane was back in Bram. He’d never liked him. Always told her he was trouble and only trying to get into her pants because she had money.
Joanna cocked her head and focused on the two men. “Is there something you want to tell me? Did someone pay you to leave the truck behind?”
“No. No, ma’am.” The younger of the two, Toby, stepped forward, his entire body reeking of booze. “I bet that crazy bitch, Denise, has something to do with it. We’ve been sitting at the bar at the Tasty Nugget for the past four hours trying to decide what to tell ya.” He paused and gave his partner a look of if-you-hit-me-again-I’ll-tear-your-ass-apart.
Apprehension tightened Joanna’s chest. “Did my father do this?” As she said it out loud, the implication sounded even more ludicrous. Her dad would never condone using a gun unless it was for self-defense.
“Tell her the truth.” Keith straightened to his full height, his eyes narrow slits.
Jerry took a deep breath, releasing the air slowly. “Keith, man. Calm down. I honestly didn’t think it would go this far. Just a few minor kinks here and there in her plans to make her see being a lawyer was much better.”
No way. Her father had put them up to it? The ground shifted beneath her feet. She studied the men she thought she could trust. Her chest rose, fell, ached like hell. A ton of words formed on the tip of her tongue, none of which she’d be proud of saying afterward. So she bit down hard instead.
“You two did those things to Joanna? You’re responsible for what happened today with the truck?” Keith’s face grew redder with each word, his fists tight by his side. He glared at Toby. “You’ve had a thing for Joanna since you started working for her. I’ve seen the way you look at her. How could you do this to her?”
“Hell no. Not stealing the truck. I have no idea who that asshole was with the gun. I swear.”
“You son of a bitch!” Keith swung without warning, slamming Jerry’s jaw with a great right hook and knocking him to the floor. He jumped on top and proceeded to pound on him until his nose and mouth bled.
Toby stumbled backward and fell to the ground, where he back-crawled away from the two.
“Keith, no!” Shocked by the sight of blood and Keith’s temper, Joanna grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled hard, her effort doing little but hiking her dress farther up on her thigh.
To her surprise, Jerry didn’t retaliate. He just defended himself from the blows. Thank God Keith was no match for Jerry, who was twice his size, but he didn’t let up.
“Stop. He’s not worth it. What on earth has gotten into you?” This wasn’t like him—she’d never seen him so out of control.
As if in a trance, Keith stopped the attack, slipped off his opponent, and stood, rubbing his right hand. He met her eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. I had no idea these two idiots were capable of this. I know how important this party was for your career.”
“It’s not your fault.” She swallowed hard, her guilty conscience still rearing its ugly head. “You better get some ice for that.”
He shook his right hand out in front of him, fisted it and shook it again. “I’m good.”
She turned to Jerry still lying on the ground. “You. Both of you will help clean up tonight after the party, and then I don’t want to see you again. Ever. Do you understand?” Her voice shook with anger.
“Yes, ma’am. What about my check?”
She growled under her breath. “I’ll mail it,” she said between gritted teeth.
Keith grasped her elbow, gently leading her away from the two men to a seat near the banquet doors. “You need a drink. I don’t like seeing you so upset. Let me get one for you?”
She nodded, the angry tears of disappointment so close she feared speaking would open the floodgates. How could they do this? They knew how important tonight was. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder at Toby and shuddered. Did the man really have some sort of crush on her or was Keith being his normal, overprotective self?
Joanna listened to the upbeat Christmas music in the beautiful ballroom behind her. Thought about all the hard work and tedious hours she’d put into the details and decorations. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and gave up a heavy sigh.
“Here you go, Joanna.” Keith held out a glass filled with her beverage of choice. “Nothing like a good ol’ foreign beer to wash away the stress.”
“You remembered.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you. My lifesaver once again. Would you mind seeing to it that those two don’t cause any more trouble?”
“Sure. I should have picked up on this. I should have known.”
She placed a hand on his forearm and inhaled deeply. “You’re not the only one who should have seen this coming. Please don’t beat yourself up over it.”
His gaze drifted to his arm where her hand lay, and he swallowed hard, his jaw twitching. “You look beautiful tonight, Joanna,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze traveled up and down her face, slowing on her mouth. “I can’t believe they did this to you.”
“Thank you. Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” A weird vibe hung in the air around them, making her uncomfortable. She slid her hand from his arm to her lap, chalking it up to the emotional outburst they’d both experienced as she took a sip of the cold beer.
“We’ll talk after the party.” He cleared his throat. “You let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
Lowering the bottle, she nodded. “Okay. I will. Promise.”
She watched him walk off. Tall, lean, clean-cut, with a boyish charm most women found alluring, Keith was a good
guy. One who’d been by her side for as long as she could remember. Ever since his mother’s tragic death, she’d felt close to him. Living next door to his family, she’d made extra money babysitting him when his father went on overnight trips, and as they grew older, he’d followed Sam and her around through high school and even college. Lots of flirting and begging her to go out with him over the past few years, but the truth was, he was too young for her. Four years wasn’t all that much in the big scheme of things, but she didn’t want to feel like she was taking the place of anyone’s mother.
Yeah, she had issues.
Chapter Five
The rising sun peeked through the blinds and filtered light into Ryker’s bedroom, turning his mismatched drapes an odd color of green that usually had him itching to cave and let his mother redecorate, but for some damn reason that fact didn’t matter a helluva lot anymore. Ryker rubbed a finger across his left brow, feeling the tension grow as his eye twitched. Stress? Foreboding? Hell, probably both.
Saturday morning. He turned to look at the clock beside his bed, not even giving the photo of him and his dad fishing a second thought. Six o’clock, and he hadn’t slept a wink. This was going to be a great, productive day at work. Not. Jo Jo, the mystery woman from his past, had slipped back into his life for a millisecond, and now he couldn’t concentrate on anything else.
He threw the covers back, determined to force her out of his head. A long, grueling run. That’s what I need.
Later, after his feet had hit the pavement in a steady rhythm for more than thirty minutes, his skin moist from exertion and the suffocating humidity, he made it back home, showered and dressed for work. But damned if his mind didn’t still linger on her. It was hopeless.
She looked thinner than he remembered. But even in that quirky cowgirl getup, he could tell her curves were still in all the right places. Shit, he could still feel her arms around his body in that sensuous grip as she planted tiny kisses along his neck and jaw, her fingers demanding and torturing, working their way downward and challenging his restraint with each mind-blowing touch.
He gave himself a mental slap as he opened his truck door, hoisted himself inside, and then slumped behind the wheel. Forget it. Forget her. Focus on work. That was the best option.
His cell buzzed on his hip.
The station. Trish’s line. Good thing he’d put it on silent for the night since the ring he’d assigned to Trish’s number was annoying as all get out—a safety measure to alert him when she called. Hell, he needed some way to prepare for her antics. Ryker rolled his eyes. Trish flirted constantly. Only problem was she was twice his age and married. To the sheriff.
“Kane.”
“Hey, handsome. What’s on the agenda today? You heading straight here or stopping by the McNamee’s place?”
His entire body tensed at the name, both from recognition and confusion. “I’m sorry; I’m not following.”
“Guess Wade didn’t pass on the message.” She grunted, shuffling through some papers on the other end of the line. “Lard-ass.”
He cleared his throat. “I haven’t gotten any messages.” He glanced down at his phone to make certain he hadn’t missed one. Trish’s willingness to call her husband names over the phone assured him of Sheriff Wade’s absence, but he clarified anyway. “Sheriff make it in yet?”
“Nope. Not been in all morning.”
“Do I need to head to the McNamee’s?”
“If you didn’t get the message, then I’d bet my bootylicious bod the sheriff took it upon himself to take care of things.”
Ryker scratched the back of his neck. Did he address her comment or brush it off?
Brush it off. Definitely. Brush it off, man.
“Thanks, Trish. Do you know what the call was about?”
“I can’t find the blasted note now.” There was more shuffling. “You wanna come help me find it?”
“Um… That’s okay. I’ll give the sheriff a call and see what’s up.” He ended the call quickly, but not before he heard her laughing. Most of the time she flirted to make him blush or extremely uncomfortable, which was fine. He was a big boy. He could take it. But something in her eyes made him think flirting wasn’t really all she wanted.
He shook off the weird vibe and backed out of the circle driveway. Never a dull moment. That was for sure.
His brain ticked off reasons for her alerting him about the McNamees. Trouble at the party last night? Jo Jo’s truck? Her crew?
Damn. Curiosity was getting the best of him. His buddy in the Houston office had given him the McNamee’s new address yesterday with the rest of the information he’d asked for. He eyed the slip of paper stuck in the cup holder beside his coffee mug. It so happened he’d pass right by the address on his way to the station. Might as well see if the sheriff was still there. He didn’t have to stop.
He took a left off the freeway onto the appropriate street. Nice neighborhood. Large lots. Covered in trees. Several ponds.
He listened to the crackle of his radio, the roar of his tires on the paved road as he counted off the numbers on the brick mailboxes. At the end of the street, he turned and about a half mile down came to a generous cul-de-sac. Only two houses on this section of the road. Huge iron gates arched over the driveway of the property sitting directly in front of him, the name McNamee intricately woven within the metal bars.
Off in the distance, about fifty feet away, sat Sheriff Wade’s cruiser. A nice cherry red BMW was parked beside it, but that’s not what kept his attention.
The huge, ornamental wrought-iron front door slammed open against the inside wall, a woman exiting and hurrying down the porch steps toward the BMW. He slowly pulled over to the shoulder to get a better view and stay unnoticed.
The woman fit Jo Jo’s petite frame, but the way she moved didn’t mesh with his memory. He could tell she wore high heels beneath the dark-colored pantsuit by way of her quick short steps. Shoes he doubted Jo Jo would be caught dead in.
A tall man filled the doorway. Jo Jo’s father, he imagined. The woman waved toward the porch then slipped into the car, but the man didn’t wave back. Odd. Maybe there’d been an argument? Could the sheriff’s call be for a domestic dispute?
He gave the grounds a quick once-over, admiring the attention to detail given to the Christmas decorations, and decided it might be in his best interest to put a little more effort into his own. Might help boost his holiday spirit.
The man he presumed to be Jo Jo’s father slipped back inside, leaving the door wide open. As he watched the woman behind the wheel of the small car, the seconds ticked off on his watch, and he started wondering about Wade’s location. Next thing he knew, the BMW tore down the drive, barely waiting long enough to exit the gate before it fully opened. There was no need for him to try and hide. At the speed the woman traveled, she’d be lucky if she even spotted Ryker’s truck, much less him sitting behind the wheel.
Lifting the radio, he called dispatch. “Has Sheriff Wade checked in?”
“Yes. About ten minutes ago. He’s still at the McNamee’s. Is there a problem?”
“No. No problem.” He returned the radio to its perch and put the truck in drive, trying to decide whether or not to pull in. Provoking Sheriff Wade was the last thing he needed or wanted.
Just as Ryker passed the driveway, lining his vehicle up with the front of the house, Sheriff Wade’s boisterous voice echoed through the air. Ryker heard him laughing before he saw the man through the open door. Well, what do you know? By the looks of things, Wade and McNamee were friends. Something Wade had failed to mention back at the station when they’d discussed the truck-jacking.
He gave the gas pedal an added push to get the hell out of view behind a row of tall shrubs. Like it or not, he’d have to wait until the sheriff returned to the station to find out what was going on, and that was only if Wade felt the need to share.
His teeth clamped tight in his mouth. He’d made this bed of aggravation. No one had wanted him to l
eave the Houston Police Department. It had been his choice to head back to his hometown. And he could always go back. His captain made certain he knew that was still on the table, but that meant facing the truth.
His last case had been closed. Against his recommendations. Against every moral fiber of his being. He’d have to forget and move on, something not even a cold day in hell could accomplish.
Those victims deserved justice. Not only his father’s old friend, who’d been murdered, but also Ryker’s partner.
…
Joanna finished off the last of her morning coffee, sitting in the plush hotel lobby of the Pine Woods Country Club and listened to the Christmas carols playing from the speakers above her as the steady stream of people from the party checked out. Thankfully, the majority of her father’s guests, including her, had stayed overnight. The few who insisted on leaving the hotel last night only gave her a few moments of grief over being chauffeured home on the company’s dime.
Relief washed over her with the next swallow. It was done. The party had gone well. No more kinks or hang-ups. And no more crew.
The disappointment over Toby and Jerry’s decision to join her father’s team still rolled around in her gut like sour milk. They’d be tough to replace. She sighed and focused on the potential threat to her father—for all his misguided attempts to sabotage her choice of career, the man cared about her; he just refused to believe he was ever wrong about anything.
Pulling out her cell phone, she searched for a call from Sam. She’d expected her friend to return before the party was over, but she hadn’t. And there were no messages. Typical Sam. She shook her head, wondering how her friend had spent the night.
“What on earth do you mean they aren’t there,” a woman’s shrill pitched voice crackled through the lobby. A couple stood arguing with the clerk at the front desk. “Yes, I’m positive we checked them in after the party last night.” The woman dug in her purse for something, pulled out a yellow ticket, and shoved it across the counter at the frazzled clerk. “Here. Here is my claim ticket.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll check again. I’m sure there is a simple explanation.” The young hotel clerk, a woman, maybe twenty-two, took the ticket and hurried behind a closed door.
Sinful Secrets Page 4
