Lucky Devil

by Patricia Rosemoor

  A few minutes later, her things in order, JoJo was physically if not psychologically ready to leave for Las Vegas. She planned to get on the road after getting something to eat. Breakfast smells invaded her bedroom, enticing her. She was hungry, after all.

  Paula, Rocky and Caroline were already at the table, and Flora was setting down platters of sausage and pancakes. JoJo wondered if Lucky or Eli intended to show for breakfast. Part of her hoped not— undoubtedly, leaving without seeing Lucky again would be easier.

  “Still in one piece,” Caroline drawled, her green gaze mocking. “I did warn you about Lester.”

  She had at that, JoJo thought. “I guess I should thank you.”

  “Don’t strain yourself.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us what was going on yesterday?” Paula demanded.

  And Rocky complained, “We got back from town after the excitement was all over. Vincent filled us in.”

  Though JoJo wondered when Caroline had arrived, she didn’t ask. Undoubtedly, Vincent had filled her in, as well. Either the wrangler or Lucky.

  To JoJo’s disappointment, Lucky never made an appearance at the breakfast table. That she might have seen the last of him hit her, and her appetite waned quickly.

  Near the end of the meal, Paula asked, “How about we take another ride this morning, JoJo?”

  “I’m going back to Las Vegas.”

  The other woman looked shocked. “You’re kidding! Today?”

  “In a few minutes.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t really have to leave so early, do you? I mean, you don’t have an appointment or someone waiting for you?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I didn’t think so. You can spare another couple of hours for a friend. Even if you leave here early this afternoon, you should be able to get back to Las Vegas before dark. Pretty please?” Paula gave her a pleading expression. “After what’s been happening around here over the past few days, I don’t feel comfortable riding alone.”

  Not wanting to be swayed, JoJo said, “Rocky would be better protection.”

  “Uh, you gotta be kidding.” He laughed. “I got saddle sores from the other day.”

  When JoJo glanced at Caroline, Lucky’s sister merely arched her eyebrows in a don’t-even-ask expression.

  JoJo sighed. “All right. A short ride.”

  “Great!”

  A delaying tactic in hopes that she would catch sight of Lucky, JoJo realized. For once she left the ranch, she would probably never see him again.

  “SO, YOU FIGURED what this mess was about?” Eli asked Lucky as they sprawled in the living area of the Wrangler’s Roost and downed stale coffee.

  “Beats me.” Lucky set down his mug and began checking over his lariat for any frays or weak spots. “Lester Perkins might have tracked JoJo to Sedona somehow, but I’d bet my last buck he didn’t mean her any harm.”

  “Someone did. Adair Keating?”

  “If so, JoJo couldn’t say.”

  Lucky considered the slight possibility that Keating and Lester were related or old friends, and that Keating had been trying to get revenge for Lester…but he didn’t buy it. He could hardly believe his gut instincts about JoJo’s working for his father had been wrong. Still, he knew something more than met the eye was going on here, and that JoJo would be safer in Las Vegas until they could get to the bottom of this.

  Envisioning JoJo’s expression when he’d suggested she leave again made Lucky squirm in his chair. She hadn’t been able to hide her hurt. Hurt suggested caring. Well…back at her. He had more feelings for the redhead than he knew what to do with.

  Despite his suspicions and determination to keep her at arm’s length emotionally if not physically, JoJo had earned his grudging respect and trust. His doubts had sprouted like devil’s horns, however, when he’d interrupted her phone conversation with his father. But maybe he’d purposely misunderstood because he’d wanted an out.

  When all was said and done, though, the thought of JoJo’s leaving—of the likelihood of his not seeing her again—left Lucky empty inside.

  Question was—what was he willing to do about her?

  “Think Keating’ll ever open his eyes and talk?” Eli was asking.

  The question brought Lucky back to the conversation at hand. “Maybe he already has. I oughta call to check.” Staring at the lariat in his hands, he thought to trade the rope for the telephone when a loud drone outside snapped him to attention. “What the hell’s that?”

  Eli sprang to his feet. “Sounds like a whirlybird!”

  “Sounds like trouble to me.”

  Throwing the looped lariat around his shoulder, Lucky grabbed a rifle from the gun rack and checked to make certain it was loaded, then stuffed some additional ammunition in a vest pocket.

  “Let’s go meet trouble head-on,” Lucky said grimly.

  The men exited in time to see a chopper descending near the main house. Gripping the rifle, Lucky took off through the wooded area, Eli on his heels. By the time he broke through the growth, the chopper had touched down and Caroline was at the opening.

  Lucky didn’t have to see him to know the identity of the main passenger.

  Vito Tolentino alighted first, looked around to make certain all was clear, then gave the man inside the high sign. Lucky slowed down, but kept walking. No matter what JoJo thought, he wasn’t afraid. Besides, a confrontation was inevitable. He might as well get it over with.

  “That who I think it is?” Eli puffed from directly behind him.

  “Yeah. Salvatore Donatelli—the great man himself has come to call.”

  He watched his father debark and hug his sister.

  “Papa, I’ve missed you,” Caroline shouted above the beating sound of the chopper’s blades.

  “You wanna tell me what in bloody hell is going on around here?”

  Feet rooted to the earth, Lucky took a good look at the man he hadn’t seen in person since he was a kid. Sally Donatelli was an older version of his firstborn. He was a little stockier than Nick, his face a bit more jowly, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

  Suddenly, as if he knew, Sally looked past his daughter. His smile slowly faded. “Lucky.”

  His father didn’t look any happier than he was feeling, Lucky realized. Clenching the rifle tightly, Lucky stepped forward as his father and sister stepped from beneath the whirling blades. He was short of arm’s reach of the older man.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded over the noise of the chopper.

  “That any way to greet your father?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Sally sighed. “Sometimes a man’s gotta handle things himself.”

  Lucky tightened his jaw. So it was to begin. “You mean about bringing me home?”

  “I mean about keeping JoJo safe. How Adair Keating got himself shot, I don’t understand.”

  Not expecting this, Lucky was nonplussed. “You don’t understand? What’s Keating to you?”

  “He works for me. When I heard Lester Perkins escaped, I sent him here to keep an eye on JoJo.”

  So Adair Keating hadn’t sprung Lester…nor had he been the one to create those accidents for JoJo. His gut instincts had proved correct once more.

  “Keating didn’t do a very good job,” Lucky said dryly. And damn him, he couldn’t help himself. “And you could have called JoJo back to Vegas,” he tested, just to be certain.

  His father’s expression was perplexed. “What makes you think JoJo would do anything I said?”

  “Then she’s not working for you?” Lucky asked, to be perfectly clear.

  “Whatever gave you such an idea? She’s a good kid. A friend of Nick’s. You remember him—your brother?” Sally said sarcastically.

  Just as she’d told him over and over. Just as he’d been beginning to believe.

  Lucky didn’t react, merely asked, “If she’s not yours, then why did you send someone to look after her?”

  “Old Leste
r went off the beam and gave her a damn hard time a coupla months back. He’s my responsibility—I promised his mama I’d take care of him before she died. After what he put JoJo through, she deserves some peace. Plus, she’s got guts and I admire her.” His father glared at him. “That good enough for you, smart boy?”

  The explanation should have been good enough when JoJo had given it to him the first time, Lucky realized. Guilt swamped him. Despite all her denials, he’d held her accountable, and though deep inside, he’d slowly come to believe he was wrong, he’d never put words to his change of heart. He’d never told her. Now JoJo would never consider that he’d come to trust her on his own, and somehow, Lucky knew how important that would be to her.

  “JoJo thought Keating was the one who helped Lester escape,” Lucky finally said. “If he wasn’t the one…”

  “It has to be someone else around here,” Eli finished.

  “Oh, my God,” Caroline murmured, looking truly concerned. “Rocky did a disappearing act right after JoJo agreed to go out riding with Paula.”

  Opening herself to new dangers, Lucky realized, heart in his throat. He concluded his own question: if Keating wasn’t guilty, then Rocky had to be.

  “I’m going after her.” Hoping he wasn’t too late to stop Rocky Franzone from whatever devious plan he had in mind, Lucky started for the pasture and Silverado.

  “Lucky, wait!” Caroline said, stopping him. “If JoJo’s in danger now, you’ll never get to her in time on a horse!”

  Lucky whipped around. “What do you suggest?”

  And knew he was staring at the answer.

  “I’M GOING TO MISS this country,” JoJo said sincerely as she and Paula picked their way through a small, creek-fed canyon.

  The setting was beautiful. Tall ponderosa pines were dwarfed by sheer erosion-carved walls. And though the sun’s rays had difficulty penetrating this part of the deep, narrow gorge, walnut and maple trees lined the creek’s bank in addition to the conifers.

  “It’s not like you live so far that you can’t come back any time you want,” Paula said.

  “If I had a reason.”

  “What? Lucky’s not enough reason for you?”

  As usual, Paula was man-obsessed, as if a relationship were the key to solving any problem. Well, this time, she had a point, JoJo admitted. Lucky was the problem.

  “He’s enough,” JoJo admitted, guiding Spitfire around some boulders strewn across the rough path and through the water. “It’s just—”

  “That he’s not flush?” Paula finished for her.

  “I don’t care about money.”

  Paula snorted. “Everyone cares about money. But you don’t really have to worry about it, do you?”

  The comment struck JoJo wrong somehow. Made her uneasy. She’d known all along that Paula was one for creature comforts that far exceeded what she could afford on a secretary’s salary—her English-riding training, the jewelry she coveted, the need for an expensive rental car.

  Thinking about the car triggered a new, elusive unease.

  That Paula was indicating she was somehow better off irritated JoJo. “Being a show girl has its rewards, but not many of us get rich off the profession.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about your salary.”

  Reminded of her recent windfall that would make those things affordable soon, JoJo frowned and scrutinized the other woman, but Paula’s expression was placid. She couldn’t possibly know. JoJo didn’t get it…unless Paula was a snoop and had gone through her things…and so had found the letter from the lawyers.

  Taking a guess at the other’s woman problem, she asked, “Did your ex-husband leave you with big debts or something?”

  When Paula admitted “There is no ex-husband,” JoJo started.

  “So you didn’t come to the ranch to mend a broken heart?”

  “That part is true. I just wasn’t married like I thought I would be when it was time to say goodbye.”

  Paula sounded regretful, as if she’d rather be divorced than just left by a lover, JoJo thought, unable to figure out why the other woman had lied about her situation.

  “You didn’t have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret. Just because you weren’t married doesn’t make a breakup any less painful.”

  As JoJo herself was full aware. Lucky would haunt her. She’d see that devilish grin of his until the day she died.

  “I don’t like having to explain myself. Not usually. But I’ll make this an exception,” Paula said with a smile that looked a bit forced. “Why don’t we get down, stretch our legs and give our butts a rest, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Sure,” JoJo agreed, though she suddenly felt edgy. “Then we’d better turn back. I need to get on the road if I don’t want to be driving through the desert in the dark.”

  They dismounted. Salmon sandstone walls closed in around them, creating a shelter of murky shadows and fragile breezes. While the place could be a private haven, at the moment it had the opposite effect on JoJo. A little spooked by the isolation, she was glad when Paula led her horse a bit farther to an open area splashed with sunshine and a leg of the creek. They were watering their horses when an odd sound reverberated along the canyon walls.

  “What’s that?” JoJo asked, shading her eyes as she looked up.

  The sound grew louder, hurting her ears and agitating the horses, as a helicopter swept by overhead. JoJo hung on to Spitfire and soothed the mare with low tones.

  “Tourists,” Paula stated, rubbing her horse’s neck. And when the helicopter vanished and the sound faded off, she said, “You have to understand my background, JoJo. I grew up with money. My family had everything. An estate. Cars. Horses. The best education.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  JoJo had guessed Paula wasn’t exactly what she’d seemed, though she’d figured it had been a successful husband who’d gotten her used to luxury.

  “My father foolishly made some bad investments. A multitude of bad investments. He lost everything when I was twenty. Then he killed himself.” In a strange little voice, she added, “Without money, what hope did I have of finding a good catch? I couldn’t even finish my degree in music.”

  Music…the CDs…and a lone audiotape box…

  Pulse thrumming, JoJo said, “So your life changed.”

  “Drastically. I was on my own, and things were tough for years. Then I met this wonderful man right after Thanksgiving. I was playing the piano at a society party, and he couldn’t resist. He was older, sophisticated, perfect for me. Everything I’d ever dreamed of in a potential husband. We had similar backgrounds and interests and got along famously. On Christmas Eve, he asked me to move in with him. By New Year’s Eve, we were living together. But every day I spent with him I knew part of him longed for another woman. I tried to make him happy. I swore he was.”

  JoJo’s pulse surged. She had an awful feeling….

  “He broke up with you?”

  “Actually, he died.”

  “It’s terrible to lose someone you love.” Suspecting she knew what was coming, JoJo choked the words out. “What happened? An accident?”

  “A heart attack,” Paula said. “And losing him was awful, but what came after was even worse.”

  Part of JoJo was thinking about the significance of an empty audiotape box in a car that had only a CD player. Part of her was saying, “I don’t understand.”

  And when Paula stated “It was the will,” JoJo’s heart sank. “I knew he’d earmarked most of his estate to charitable organizations and foundations, but I figured he would leave me—the woman who’d shared the last five months of his life—well, at least a little something. I was wrong. It was you he honored in his will.”

  JoJo whispered, “Oliver Phipps.”

  “I was Oliver’s companion when he died. I deserved to be remembered. It isn’t fair. I’ve talked to the best lawyers in New York. They tell me that since we weren’t married, I can’t possibly contest the philant
hropic bequests that were set up years ago. But as his recognized companion, I can contest the codicil—the money he left you. And if something should happen to you, the process would be that much easier, the outcome that much more certain.”

  “So it’s been you all along.” Not Lester. Not Adair. JoJo was numb with shock. “You’ve been trying to kill me.”

  “I’m sorry, JoJo. You’re a nice person. I like you. I like you a lot.”

  The whirling drone returned, and above them, the helicopter glided by in the opposite direction.

  JoJo hung on to her nervous horse. Her thoughts were whirling, trying to make connections. “Lester…you broke him out?”

  “With help.”

  “Why?” she asked, wondering who had helped Paula with her evil plan.

  “Insurance, of course. If I had to resort to drastic measures, I counted on him being the patsy. I kept a tab on you all along, JoJo. I wanted to know my competition. Using Lester was a natural. I followed you from Vegas, had Rocky set Lester up in a cheap motel while I made my entrance at the ranch. Lester was so grateful that we needed his help. I convinced him I was your friend and that you were in trouble again. When I left you at Tlaquepaque to make that phone call, it was so Rocky could get Lester close enough for you to see. So you could name him. He’s still in love with you—as deluded by the unavailable as Oliver was.”

  “I never lied to Oliver,” JoJo insisted, the numbness wearing off, the fear making her wary. What was Paula up to? “I didn’t try to trick him.”

  “Remember what we talked about over lunch— about us girls having to take care of ourselves? That’s all I’m doing. I’m sure you understand I have to take care of myself just like you did when you used your wiles on Oliver so that he would include you in his will.”

  “But I never—”

  “Don’t try to deny it!”

  JoJo’s mouth snapped shut when Paula stepped from behind her horse, a gun in her hand.