by Joanna Wayne
The bell over the door tinkled again and this time a burly guy accompanied by a petite blonde walked in. Edie greeted them by name. Judging from the comments, they were a truck-driving team who stopped by often. Edie scurried off to take care of them.
“Is that your Corvette out there?” the sheriff asked Wyatt.
“No. I’m driving the black pickup truck. I figure the guy who stole Ms. Burger’s Honda drove up in that. It was the only car parked out front when I came in and he was the only customer.”
“A Honda for a Corvette. Interesting trade. Brent, run the plates on the Corvette. My guess is it’s hot.”
Good assumption. Wyatt sipped his coffee while the sheriff gathered the basic information from Kelly. His interest piqued when they got to the address where Kelly would be living.
“That’s the old Callister place, isn’t it?” McGuire asked. “Yellow cottage-style house, down from the old Baptist church.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“My daughter Collette rented the place for a while back when she was single. I was glad to see her move out.”
“Why?” Kelly asked.
“I probably shouldn’t even mention this,” McGuire said, “but I’m sure you’ll hear from someone else if not from me. My daughter’s friend was brutally attacked in that house. She’s fine now, but it was touch-and-go for a while. Turned out the guy was actually after my daughter. But don’t worry. He’s behind bars now.”
“I hope your daughter is okay,” Kelly said.
“She’s fine now. Married and with a bun in the oven.”
Wyatt was familiar with that part of the story. The sheriff’s daughter was married to Wyatt’s brother Dylan. This was becoming all too familial. All they needed was some fried chicken and banana pudding and it would be a family reunion.
How did people ever have any privacy in a town like Mustang Run?
“That house has been empty for over a year,” McGuire continued. “Place needs a paint job and lots of work. Last time I drove by to check things out, I noticed an oak tree in front that needs to be cut down.”
“I loved that tree. I remember climbing it when I was about Jaci’s age and having tea parties with Grams under those huge spreading branches.”
“Well, it’s dead now. Lightning bolt last spring nailed it and it looks like the first good wind will lay it on the roof.”
“I wasn’t made aware of any of that.”
“House was in perfect shape when Cordelia Callister was living. She’d probably roll over in her grave if she knew it was in such a state of disrepair.”
“Surely it isn’t that bad.”
“It’s bad enough that whoever rented it to you should have explained how much work it needs before they took your money. If you need help breaking the lease, call Judge Betty Smith. Number’s in the book. She’ll tell you what to do.”
“Actually, I own that house,” Kelly admitted. “I had no idea it was neglected. For years, I’ve been paying a man named Arnold Jenkins to manage the property.”
McGuire rubbed his whiskered jaw. “So you own the old Callister home place? Did you buy it sight unseen?”
“I didn’t buy it. I inherited it. Cordelia was my grandmother.”
“Well, hell’s bells. Then you must be Linda Ann’s daughter. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I didn’t expect anyone around here to remember my mother.”
“All the old-timers around here remember her. She grew up in Mustang Run and that was back when everybody knew everybody.”
It appeared they still did.
McGuire hooked his thumbs in his belt loop and hitched up his pants. “Don’t that beat all, you showing up back here after all these years? Linda Ann left Mustang Run right after she graduated from UT and that’s pretty much the last we’ve seen of her. How’s she doing?”
“Mother’s doing well.”
“I remember Cordelia talking about Linda Ann being a single mother after your father was killed. Car crash, wasn’t it?”
Kelly nodded. “He died before I was born.”
McGuire rubbed his jaw. “Did Linda Ann ever marry again?”
“Yes, six years ago. She married a physics professor that she worked with in Boston. He retired last year and surprisingly, they moved to Plano, Texas.”
“Guess your grandmother figured Linda Ann wasn’t ever going to move back to Mustang Run so she just left her property to you.”
“Exactly. But apparently I should have checked on it personally before now. In my defense, I’ve been occupied with other matters and I trusted that Mr. Jenkins was taking care of repairs.”
“I’m afraid Arnold’s been snookering you for over a year. He’s got the rheumatism so bad now he had to give up his membership in the local spit-and-whittle society. He’s been at his son’s house in California since before Thanksgiving.”
“Spit and whittle?” Kelly questioned, confusion written on her face.
“The unofficial society for retired men,” Wyatt explained. And now that he’d interrupted the dialogue, he might as well come clean and jump into the old-home-week party.
Wyatt stuck out a hand toward the sheriff. “I should introduce myself. I’m Wyatt Ledger.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows rose. He leaned back on his heels, studying Wyatt. “Yep, I see the family resemblance now. Dylan talks about you all the time, but he didn’t say a word about his infamous Atlanta detective brother coming for a visit.”
“No one in the family knows I’m here,” Wyatt admitted.
“Planning to surprise ’em, uh? Believe me, they will be. Sure as shootin’, Troy will kill the fatted calf. How long you here for?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, I’d like to sit down and chew the fat with you while you’re in town, see how the big-city way of doing things compares with our methods. The county is growing so fast, we’re adding a specialized homicide division. I could use your input.”
“I’d be glad to give it.”
“Right now we’d better get to the business at hand.”
Wyatt caught a whiff of Kelly’s perfume as she and the sheriff stepped away. Add that to the sway of her hips and the effect was intoxicating.
A half hour later, it had all been said. As suspected, the Corvette had been stolen in Houston earlier that day, the keys taken from a woman in her own driveway as she was getting in the car.
While the sheriff had questioned Kelly, Brent had taken down a detailed description of the suspect from Wyatt and Edie. Jaci was still sleeping soundly.
McGuire took another call on his cell phone, the third since he’d arrived. Evidently the weather was playing havoc with driving. When the sheriff broke the connection, he gulped down the remains of his second cup of coffee and turned to Wyatt.
“I’ve got a truck that skidded off the road and into a ditch on Buchanan Road that I need to attend to. Seeing as how both you and Mrs. Burger are going to Mustang Run, how about you giving her a lift into town?”
An offer Wyatt had made earlier and had the proposal refused. But that was when he and Kelly were strangers. Now they shared a membership in the elite Mustang Run descendants club.
Now Wyatt was the one with concerns. “I’ll be glad to drive Mrs. Burger into town, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to stay at her house tonight.”
“The house needs work, but it’s not going to cave in on her,” McGuire argued. “It’s been standing for more than a hundred years.”
“The thief looked about as unsavory as they come,” Wyatt said. “Even if he can’t break into her computer files, there’s information in the stolen car about where she lives. And I suspect he has a good hunch she’ll be there alone.”
“More likely, the thief is long gone from the area by now,” McGuire said. “But the decision for where she stays is up to Mrs. Burger.”
Kelly chewed her bottom lip nervously and turned toward Wyatt. “Do you really think Jaci and I might be in danger?”
>
“Probably not, but why chance it? Spend the night in a motel and give the guy plenty of time to move on. There are two in town.”
“That’s an option,” the sheriff agreed, “but they might not have a vacancy tonight. They’re small motels and there’s a big gun show in town this weekend.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to check them out,” Wyatt said.
The sheriff pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and rattled them as if he were eager to leave. “Tell you what, if you do stay at the house, I’ll have one of the deputies do drive-bys every hour or so. If you get anxious or even think you hear someone trying to break in, call 911 and he can get there quicker than a snake can slither through a hollow log.”
Kelly pushed her half bangs away from her face. “I’d appreciate that.”
Wyatt still didn’t like it, but it seemed he wasn’t getting a vote. But as long as he was driving Kelly and Jaci into town, he still had time to talk Kelly into staying in a motel.
He was being overly cautious. But then, dealing with dead victims on a regular basis did that for a man.
McGuire got as far as the door and turned back. “Another option would be to drive Mrs. Burger and her daughter out to Willow Creek Ranch. I’m sure Troy would be glad to put them up for the night,” McGuire said. “There’s plenty of room in that rambling old house.”
Wyatt nodded, but he wasn’t keen on that idea.
“You two work it out and let me know what you decide. The deputy can be in the area if you need him, Mrs. Burger. But now that I think about it, staying out at the Ledger ranch is what I’d recommend.”
“I’ll go make room for a couple of extra passengers in my truck,” Wyatt said, deciding to leave before he said too much. As far as he was concerned, the ranch was a last resort. Reuniting with Troy would be stressful enough without pulling a woman he barely knew into the sticky mix.
Fortunately, the rain had stopped, since making room for two passengers required moving his clothes from the backseat to the covered bed of the truck. When the truck was ready, he made one quick call to Alyssa and then went back for his two charges.
The intriguing and naively seductive Kelly Burger would be the first female passenger in his new truck. This was where Alyssa’s ridiculous raised-by-a-family-of-skunks analogy might actually come in handy.
Too bad that Kelly smelled so damn good.
Chapter Four
Miraculously, Jaci barely stirred when Kelly strapped her into the seat belt. Kelly made a support pillow of her lightweight jacket for her daughter.
“I’ll turn on some heat,” Wyatt said as she settled into the front passenger seat.
“Thanks. Neither Jaci nor I are dressed for this weather. I knew there was a cold front predicted for tonight, but I expected to be in Mustang Run long before now.”
“What made you late?”
“Car trouble.”
“Tough. That’s the kind of luck I’d have wished on the thief.”
They grew silent after that and she leaned back, closed her eyes and contemplated Wyatt and the idea of renting a motel room tonight. She’d counted on staying in the empty house, only now the pillows and sleeping bags she’d packed were speeding down the highway with a low-down thief.
The scenario that Wyatt had brought up was far worse. The thief with the stare that had made her skin crawl could be in Mustang Run, waiting for her and Jaci to arrive.
More than likely, he was miles away by now, just as the sheriff had theorized. But what if the sheriff was wrong? She shivered at the possibility.
“I think I will take your advice and stay at the motel tonight,” she said. “Even if they catch the thief, it sounds as if there’s little chance I’d get my car back right away. And without the sleeping bags, Jaci and I would be sleeping on the cold, hard floor.”
“Good. That will save me having to sleep in my truck outside your house. Overnight stakeouts are the devil on a man’s back.”
“The sheriff offered protection.”
“You know the old adage. A cop on the scene is worth two in a roaming patrol car.”
“I thought it was a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush.”
“Now who would want a bird in his hand?”
She smiled in spite of the tense situation. Wyatt Ledger was definitely nice to have around in a crunch.
“I hope there’s somewhere I can rent a car early in the morning,” she said.
“I kind of doubt there’s a car rental location in Mustang Run, but if there’s not, I can always drive you into Austin to pick one up.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. There must be some kind of taxi or car service to the Austin airport. I’m sure the motel will know how to contact them.”
“My fares are a lot cheaper.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do than chauffeur me around.”
“Not particularly. I’m unemployed. I could use the entertainment.”
“According to Sheriff McGuire, you’ll be dining on a fatted calf.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Ah, now I get it. You’re looking for an escape valve in case the pressure of family becomes overbearing.”
“Darn. You figured me out.” He slowed to maneuver around a low spot where water had collected on the road. “Seriously, you’re having a run of bad luck, Kelly. It could happen to anyone, but I’d be a jerk not to offer my help and protection.”
She’d like to believe that was the total truth and that all his intentions were good, but with what she’d been through the past year, it was hard to trust anyone.
Kelly shifted and stretched, fatigue settling into her shoulders and neck. “How long has it been since you’ve visited Mustang Run?”
“Nineteen years last September.”
“You sound like my mother. She left Mustang Run and except for a few quick visits to check on my grandmother when she was ill, Mother never returned to her hometown.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons,” Wyatt said.
“If she did, she didn’t talk about them other than to say that the town was too small.”
“Obviously, you didn’t agree with her since you’re moving here.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll stay. I’m in a regrouping phase of life.” She leaned back and let her head drop to the padded rest. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your father?”
“Eighteen years, give or take a few months.”
“There must be a story there.”
“Yes, but it’s not the kind you tell to impress a woman you’ve just met.”
If he was trying to impress her, he was doing a bang-up job of it. “Okay, let me guess,” she said. “Your family is a notorious gang of bank robbers.”
He faked a shocked expression. “You’ve met them.”
“You’re lying. Let me see… Second guess,” she said, playing along. “Your brothers are secretly vampires in cowboy clothing.”
He produced a lecherous smile. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a lovely neck?”
“All the time,” she said. “My earlobes get a lot of attention, too.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
She closed her eyes as the knots in her stomach began to slowly unravel. She refused to let herself dwell on the idea of Wyatt’s lips on her neck or any other part of her body, but his easy banter was definitely helping to put things in perspective.
Her car had been stolen. That was nothing compared to what she’d been through over the last twelve months. If she didn’t get her car back, she’d collect the insurance and buy another one.
And the pervert who stole it was likely several counties away by now, using her cash to provide his next high.
They passed the Mustang Run city-limits sign, and Kelly turned so that she could check on Jaci, though the rhythmic sounds of her breathing were proof she was still asleep. The doll she carried everywhere was clutched to her chest.
“If I remember right, the house i
s only a few miles from here,” Kelly said. “Could we stop by there on the way to the motel? After the sheriff’s diatribe on the condition it’s in, I’d just like a little advance warning of what I have to face in the morning.”
“Sure. Where do I turn?”
“Wait. I have the address plugged into my phone’s GPS system.” She looked it up and fed him the directions. In less than five minutes, they turned off on a blacktop road. Two minutes more and they passed the old Baptist church she remembered from the few times she’d visited her grandmother.
“We should be just about there. You’ll have to watch for the drive. The house may be hard to see in the dark.”
Kelly’s hands grew clammy as Wyatt pulled into the driveway. Before her car was stolen, she had been excited about moving into the house. She needed a place with continuity and history and a tie to the grandmother she’d loved but never really gotten to know.
Unlike her mother, Kelly found the idea of a small town appealing, especially at this point in her life. She wanted a quiet, safe town where she could take Jaci to the park and let her play in the yard.
Still, an unreasonable dread tightened her chest as beams of illumination from Wyatt’s headlights disbanded the shadows. And then she spied the latest disaster.
Kelly jumped out of the truck the second it stopped and stamped to the steps for a closer look. A huge branch of the oak tree McGuire had mentioned had crashed through the roof of the house.
Chimney bricks and ripped shingles were scattered about the porch and the weed-filled flower bed. Turning away, she was lashed at by a gust of wind that whipped her hair into her eyes and mouth.
She kicked at a pile of shingles and then jumped back with a squeal when a giant tarantula crawled away from the debris.
“The spider’s harmless,” Wyatt said.
“That doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
Kelly clenched her teeth and tried to calm her wrath. She had little success, but she did lower her voice so that she wouldn’t wake Jaci.
