Mariah (MARIAH and SHANE Series Book 1)

by Carol Devine

  "Austin, Texas."

  Shane glanced at Kelly, impressed. "You came all the way from Austin?"

  "I'm not a baby. I know what I'm doing."

  Jessie interrupted. "I'm sure you have better things to do than to chaperone my son halfway across the country. I'll take the first plane out. Where in Colorado are you?"

  "My hometown. Grizzly--"

  "Grizzly Springs. I remember. I'm checking flight schedules as we speak. Looks like I can catch a flight to Denver tonight, connect to Aspen in the morning and be there by afternoon. Can you take care of him until then?"

  "Don't worry about it. Give me a call when you get close to town. I'm off of Main Street. There's a big sign with my initials, KSY Stables. It isn't hard to find."

  "I'll rent a car. May I speak to Kelly again, please?"

  Shane handed the phone to Kelly. "It's your turn."

  Kelly gingerly held the phone to his ear. Shane could hear her voice coming through, strident.

  "Kelly, you behave yourself. None of this father stuff. Have I made myself clear?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I love you, baby. I'll see you tomorrow."

  Kelly punched the end button, then slumped, morose.

  Shane ruffled his hair. "How about we buy some chocolate chip cookies?"

  Mood transformed, Kelly punched his fist in the air. "Yes!"

  A half hour later, Shane shepherded Kelly out of the General Store, cookie package opened as if he were starving. Shane saw Mariah crossing the street.

  "Hey, Mariah!"

  She whirled at the sound of her name, her pony tail capturing sunlight as it tumbled over her shoulder. She was dressed pretty formally for Grizzly Springs, wearing crisp black pants, black heels and a silky-looking pale blouse. Although she appeared distracted, she gave Shane a friendly wave. "Hi, Shane."

  Shane hustled Kelly across the street to catch her. She was poised like a Colorado magpie, not smiling exactly, but ready to say hello. Two nights ago, he'd called her to see if she'd found a place to live. He left a voice mail, then a text message, attaching a photo of a decent apartment above the Tavern. She hadn't responded. Probably still adamant about doing the footwork herself.

  Bird had always been part of the Grizzly Springs landscape, panhandling on street corners or loitering around the liquor store. He was the most common of clichés, always with a pint in a brown paper bag. Shane had rarely paid much attention. The thought of Bird raising a kid in that camper was mind-blowing.

  The shitty way he had treated Mariah… Shane scrubbed his neck as if he could clean the memory of out-and-out derision Bird had displayed. There were problem drinkers in the Youngblood family but completely dysfunctional, falling down drunk? No. Not even close.

  He could still hear the rot-gutted voice, corrosively sing-songy, spouting what sounded like bizarre nursery rhymes. Yet here she was, poised and pretty, picking up the pieces of her life.

  Shane tipped his hat. "Have you moved yet?"

  "Soon. I just signed the lease." She switched her attention to Kelly. He was acting like they'd never met. "Hello," she said neutrally, to see if he remembered.

  "Mariah, this is Kelly Shane Travers. Kelly, this is a friend of mine, Mariah McBride."

  "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

  "Pleased to meet you, Kelly."

  Shane pointed across the street. "Hey, Kell. See that feed store? I'd like you to go inside and buy a twenty pound bag of horse feed for me. Here's enough cash to cover it. Remember, horse feed, twenty pounds."

  "Yes, sir."

  Kelly closed the package of cookies, exchanged them for the cash and obediently jogged down the street, entering the store.

  "He looks a bit like you," Mariah said casually. "Is he related?"

  "Maybe it's the jeans and cowboy hat."

  So that's how Shane wanted to play it. "Your name and his are rather similar."

  He flashed a self-deprecating smile. "You'd be surprised at the numbers of parents who seem to think naming their kid Kelly Shane is a good idea."

  "He's very polite."

  "Yeah, I'm doing a favor for his mom and taking care of him until she picks him up tomorrow."

  "I see." Mariah pawed through her purse, unwilling to push further. The detective in her needed to be paid, not give out free advice. She extracted a stack of business cards. "I'm trying to get the word out. I'm getting ready to open my business."

  "Business?"

  "Yes, I'm renting a little storefront on Rio Grande Avenue. The landlord is finishing the space as we speak."

  "What are you selling?"

  She handed him one of her cards. "I'm starting a private investigation firm. McBride Investigations. Aside from the usual cheating spouse surveillance, I'll be doing background checks, security consults, cyber crime prevention, litigation support, missing persons... you name it. Do you happen to know anyone who might need those services?"

  "Here, in Grizzly Springs?"

  "In the general area, yes."

  "In a town as small as this one, I can't see you getting enough business to support yourself. Aspen is where you should be setting up shop. It's only an hour and a half drive and it exposes you to a larger market."

  "I thought about it. But Aspen... it's so..."

  "Fake?"

  "It's more about the population, the rich and famous. Discretion is required. Who wants to be seen going in to see a PI who has a shingle out on Main Street?"

  "In other words, the rich and famous don't always want to be seen as the rich and famous."

  "Exactly. Plan A is to open my office here. The rent is much cheaper and, as you said, it's not a terribly long drive if people need to consult with me personally. I can always go to Aspen, if that's what a client prefers, meet wherever they are comfortable. Of course, I'll advertise in both places."

  "You'll have to. No offense, but I should warn you. People are talking and not in a good way."

  "Remember the old adage, there's no such thing as bad publicity? According to the news and what my critics have said about me, my sin was not incompetence but being overaggressive. Scandal makes people curious. Curiosity will draw them to my door. I think it will work to my advantage. Even if it doesn't, there aren't too many PIs with a resume like mine who have access to my contacts, analysis skills and technology. I should do okay."

  "That's one way to look at it, I guess."

  "If it makes you feel better, I'm also working to attract business from other areas. Between my phone, computer and tablet, I can have a consultation with anyone, at anytime. Plan B is to move to Grand Junction or possibly Denver, but only if I have to."

  Shane's phone rang, blaring his barn manager's ringtone. "I have to take this call."

  "Go ahead. I have a million things to do." Mariah hurried away.

  By the time Shane finished his call, she was long gone. Kelly was returning from the feed store, handling the twenty pound sack of feed with ease, proud of himself.

  Shane had to admit, he was, too.

  CHAPTER Three

  Late in the afternoon of the following day, a small economy sedan parked in front of Shane's house. A pretty, petite woman exited, wearing a conservatively styled skirt and pink sweater twin-set. She ran up the sidewalk to Shane's front door. Before she had the chance to knock, Kelly opened the door.

  Even though he was an inch or two taller than his mother, Jessie lifted him off his feet, hugging tight. Her hair was the same color as Kelly's but shorter than Shane remembered. Back thirteen years ago, she had a very dramatic, Kardashian type look, with waist-length hair, a tight little body and killer dance moves. Her figure was still impressive, curvy in all the right places, but her clothes definitely pegged her as more motherly now.

  "I can't thank you enough," she said to Shane.

  "No problem."

  Jessie gripped Kelly's shoulders. "You had me so worried. What were you thinking, running away like that? And to a stranger, no less. I should whup your ass."


  Shane joined them on the porch. "But you're not going to because everything turned out fine."

  Jessie gave Shane a look of warning. "Get your things, Kelly. We're leaving."

  Suspicion creased Shane's brow. "What's the big rush? You traveled all day. Come in and I'll make you a drink."

  "Yeah, Mom. Can't we stay awhile?"

  Jessie slapped Kelly upside the head. "Don't you back talk me."

  "Hey!" Shane stepped in front of Kelly.

  Jessie fisted her hands on her hips, elbows out. "Don't you dare tell me how to raise my son."

  "That's what we need to discuss," Shane said tightly. "If you want to do it out here, it's fine by me. Kelly can watch TV."

  Kelly scurried inside the house before Jessie had a chance to protest. She turned on Shane. "Who do you think you are?"

  Shane gestured to one of two rocking chairs on the porch. "I'm trying to find out. Sit down."

  Looking murderous, Jessie plunked herself down. Shane sat opposite her. "Austin is a 700 mile trip. Kelly came a long way to find me. The question is why."

  "He ran away. It's not behavior I'm willing to tolerate."

  "I can't blame you for that. You have my condolences regarding your husband."

  "Sweet talking me is not going to get you anywhere. My husband died in a car crash. It was instant, on impact. Kelly has not gotten over it. He found an old photo of you and I together and came up with this story about a new daddy. That's what his therapist says anyway."

  "I'm glad to hear he's getting therapy."

  "I know how to take care of my baby." Jessie opened the door. "Kelly, out here now!"

  "Why not spend the night? In these mountains, driving when you're tired is dangerous."

  "Kelly! Outside! Now!"

  Frustrated, Shane closed his hand over hers on the doorknob. "How are you going to keep him from coming here again?"

  "Didn't you hear me? I'm his mother."

  "Look, we can resolve this. I'll take a DNA test to prove--"

  "No way in hell am I putting him through any tests."

  Kelly appeared, holding his garbage bag and hat like a shield. "Mom?"

  Jessie shoved him toward the stairs. "Get in the car."

  Shane blocked the way. "Come on, Jessie. One night. We need to work this out."

  "Please, Mom? I promise to be good."

  Faced with her pleading son, Jessie looked torn. But when she considered Shane, she lifted her chin, defiant. "Staying with you is out of the question. Besides, I have to be home by tomorrow in order to make my shift on time."

  "Mom, can't you call in sick, just once, for me?"

  Shane knew if he could keep her from getting back in the car, he'd have the advantage. "I'll pay for the B&B down the street. The owner's a friend of mine."

  Kelly also sensed her waffling. "We can go home in the day, when it's light and it's safe. Right, Mr. Youngblood?"

  Shane squeezed Kelly's shoulder, trying to give Jessie an easy out to save face. "Give your mother a chance to decide, Kelly. This is her call."

  She rubbed her temples and considered the two of them. "God, you look like twins."

  "Please, Mom?"

  She sighed. "All right. One night. But then we're leaving first thing in the morning." She grasped Kelly's chin between forefinger and thumb, forcing him to look her straight in the eye. "Understood?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Understood."

  * * * * *

  Shane saw Mariah through the plate glass window of Sam's Hunt and Fish, entered the store, stopped at her table, held up two paper bags from the local bakery and shook them in front of her face.

  "I bring gifts," he said.

  As soon as she made eye contact, he joined her at the table. Her laptop was open and she looked a little irritated, but since he'd come armed and ready with a freshly baked bribe, Shane figured he could get her to at least hear him out.

  "Good morning, Miz McBride," he said with his most winning smile.

  "Mr. Youngblood." She barely looked up from her screen.

  She was more comfortably dressed today than yesterday, wearing jeans, albeit tight, acid-washed ones, and a t-shirt advertising the NYPD. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which must be typical for her since it suited the strong shape of her face so well.

  Word had gotten around town that Sam's Hunt and Fish now had a coffee shop inside the store, complete with a half dozen small tables, a dozen folding chairs and two sizes of cups, featuring Sam's Special Blend. In a flash of marketing genius, Sam had also prepackaged his blend in whole bean form, using slower times during the day to study the Starbucks website and its corporate pages. Mariah had showed him how to access both on his computer.

  She eyed the bakery bag, her expression dubious. "Is this business or pleasure?"

  "Are you open for business?"

  "Not yet. The day after tomorrow, the first of the month."

  "It's pleasure, then." He opened one of the bags. "Your muffin choices are bran or banana nut."

  "I'm real busy, Shane."

  "I have a problem and you're the only one I know who might be able to help me with it. Bran or Banana nut?"

  "This is about muffins?"

  "It's about DNA." He shook the muffin bag. "Well? Choose or lose."

  "Bran."

  "Masochist."

  Shane set the muffin on a napkin in front of her, then inhaled a massive bite from the banana nut one. As usual, he radiated maximum sex appeal, the expression in his eyes fiercely determined. She managed to ignore the effect.

  "Can we get to the DNA?" she asked.

  Nodding as he chomped, Shane removed a red bandanna from his pocket and used it to extract a soda can from the second bag. Swallowing, he set the can on the table. "I need to have the DNA on this analyzed."

  Mariah eyed the can. "You think there is viable DNA on there?"

  "Kelly drank from it yesterday. I'd like to know who his father is, ASAP, preferably by tomorrow."

  "You've been watching too much television. Forensic pathology can't be rushed. Plus it takes two DNA samples to establish paternity."

  "You're looking at the other sample. Do I spit or give blood?"

  "Are you sure about this, Shane? What do you really know about him?"

  "He says I'm his father."

  "But you say you're not."

  "I might be. The timing's right. He's twelve and I was with his mom thirteen years ago."

  "Thirteen years? That's a long time to wait before making a paternity claim. What's her story?"

  "She says her late husband is his father. She wants me out of the picture. Hence the need for DNA."

  "Do you recall if you used protection?"

  "I always use protection."

  "This situation suggests otherwise."

  "Know this may be difficult for you to believe, McBride, but thirteen years ago I was a pretty sought-after commodity in the rodeo world. Grand World Champion, on my way to eight years running. I was beating them off with a stick, and I ain't talking calves and sheep. Wasn't going to take chances, not when most of the groupies had already made the rounds."

  "Was his mother one of those who made the rounds?"

  "Actually, no. Jessie was a class act, a backup singer for one of the country western stars who performed in the same venues we competed in."

  "How long did your relationship last?"

  "A few days. We were between shows and didn't want people to know."

  "Why was that?"

  "I'm not a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. I don't recall what her story was, but afterwards, I never saw her again."

  "Supporting your claim with some witnesses might be helpful."

  "We were holed up in a penthouse suite in one of those stupendous Las Vegas hotels. Didn't have reason to go out much."

  Mariah bet he didn't. His looks alone guaranteed female companionship. His rodeo fame meant he chose from the cream of the crop. "Do you have any written communications from her, like a letter or a card or te
xt message?"

  "No."

  "What about photographs of you two together?"

  "Not in my possession. Kelly says he's seen one, though. When I asked Jessie about it, she said she got rid of it. I talked her into staying awhile but playing twenty questions isn't going to help me. Truth is, things happen, protection fails. He resembles me in more ways than one. He's going through a rough time and needs some help."

  "What kind of help?"

  "He just got here. I'm not sure yet."

  "Please tell me this is not about money because twelve years of child support adds up to a good chunk of change."

  "Jessie doesn't want money. She wants to take him away. She doesn't want me to spend any time with him. There's got to be a way to prove he's mine before that happens. That's why I need this DNA analyzed. Can I get it done by the end of the week?"

  "If she's uncooperative, you're asking the impossible."

  "Help me here, Mariah. There has to be a way."

  "Where's home?"

  "Austin, Texas. And yeah, I checked. She lives there. Her husband died a few months ago."

  "Paternity tests are more accurate when the DNA comes from an uncontaminated source, collected as a blood or saliva sample, not an aluminum can. Residing in a different states complicates matters, and may raise further legal questions. You need to consult with an attorney in Texas, as well as Colorado. Or an attorney who is licensed in both states. At the very least, you need more time. This Jessie woman seems to think you're a threat of some sort. Deal with that first."

  "How?"

  "How should I know? She's your girlfriend."

  "Was."

  Shane demolished the rest of his muffin, thoughtful. Disturbed by her unhealthy interest in the many Jessies in his life, Mariah refocused on her computer screen.

  "Hey, you going to eat that?"

  Shane pointed at her untouched muffin. Mariah studiously avoided eye contact. "Go ahead. Consider this a freebie."

  "Thanks. Later." He vacated Sam's like a whirlwind, bran muffin between his teeth.

  "Your only freebie," Mariah muttered.

  What remained in her mind, unfortunately, was a picture of Shane and this lovely Jessie woman, rolling around together in bed.

  * * * * *