“Watch out for him.” Jesse’s tone was dire.
She brushed him off. “I always take care of Bill.”
“Not Pop. Gage. He has to come out on top and he’ll use you to do it.”
“I don’t know what Gage can do to me now besides annoy the shit out of me. Anyway, do you have any news on the date of your sentencing?”
Jesse’s gaze dropped to his folded hands on the table. “No. My lawyer is going over scenarios, but they all require jail time. I doubt anyone in this county will give me probation.”
“I think the storm last night was bad for the Walkers, especially after what they had to replace after the fire.”
“Don’t forget the tractor I decorated,” Jesse said bitterly. “Whatever, it won’t matter. I doubt I’ll get off with some anger management sessions. I’m stuck here.” He shrugged and looked around. “I don’t know. Could be worse, and there’s a cute little deputy who comes around.”
Josie almost choked on her shock at his last statement. “You’re kidding. Do you think you have a chance?”
“A guy can look.” He snorted. “That’s all a guy can do in this place. Look at each other. Look at everyone going about their day. Look at the walls. Look at the hot cop. But I’d rather be here than prison.”
They fell into an uneasy silence. Prison. Her brother in prison. Even if it was only a year, before he got out for probation, how would he change? All that undirected anger?
“I’ll be here for the sentencing,” she said.
The corner of Jesse’s mouth lifted in a smile. “For me, or to see that Walker boy?”
If she had something to throw at him, she would. “He’s not a boy. He’s, like, twenty-five.”
“Which would be younger than you.”
“By a year.” And way more mature than Gage had ever been.
“As long as it’s not that other cousin, the one who’s even worse than Gage.”
“Cash. Yeah, he doesn’t trust me. I think they’re all a little protective of each other, but especially Brock.”
“Cuz he’s younger?”
Josie shook her head. How much should she tell him? They had been close growing up, could probably claim to be besties, but they didn’t exchange the cringe-worthy details of each other’s personal lives.
“Because he’s different.” She almost winced saying that. The word had such a negative connotation.
There was a knock on the door and they both stopped talking.
“Two minute warning,” a muffled feminine voice called.
It wasn’t the burly male who’d led her into the visitation room. She quirked her brow at Jesse, but he was ignoring her to stare at the closed door.
“Oh my god, that’s her.” Josie giggled and whispered, “You’re in lurve.”
He turned his scowl on her. “Knock that shit off, or I’ll risk another year and thump you.”
“They’re probably listening to everything we’re saying.” Her breath hitched. What if they were? Vague details about Bill’s shady business was one thing, but she was gossiping about the Walkers.
“I have an audience when I shower and when I take a leak. This is no different.”
The door opened and a petite blonde with a stern expression beckoned Josie out.
Josie tried to smile at her, but the woman was all business. The equipment she wore almost dwarfed her tiny frame and the dark blue shirt tented out over an impressive bust. The poor thing probably had a hard time getting taken seriously. Reminded Josie of the bunny cop in the latest Disney movie. No wonder her brother was smitten.
“Keep me updated,” Josie murmured to Jesse before she left.
Walking out into the sunshine, she headed in the direction of her car. Time to head home.
Her feet weighed as much as lead bricks and she took her time. A stiff wind fended off the worst of the humidity. She hoped no more storms like last night blew through.
How was Brock doing?
When could she spend another night in his arms?
He liked her. She liked him. So what were they? Would she go back to Waite Park while he hit up the bars and hooked up? Would Cash get him to drop her like the value of a brand-new car getting driven off the lot?
No. Not the way Brock had stood up to him.
She was smiling to herself when the phone rang. Waiting until she was settled into the driver’s seat, she answered.
“Have you left town yet?” Brock’s deep voice rumbled through her like last night’s thunder.
God, she had it bad. And their quickie this morning had only reminded her of how hot it was between him.
“No, I just got done at the jail. How’s your land?”
“Bad. We lost half of the north quarter of canola and we’ll see how much of the corn bounces back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
He’d said that before and his tone had been just as literal. He didn’t blame her, but he might not understand how sorry she was for the ill effects of her brother’s momentary insanity.
“Mr. Blackwell called and offered me the Shelby.” Excitement hung on his words and it made her grin.
“All right! You did it.”
“Want to go with me to pick it up?”
“Yes. No. Oh crap. I really do, but my dad is…I don’t want him to find out I passed on it to help you.”
“When are you back here next?”
Her heart sank. “Jesse’s sentencing.”
“I think Dillon said that’d be on August fifth. Do you want to go before or after?”
She chewed her lips and eyed the jail. Jesse hadn’t said a date. Did he not want her present, or was he trying to keep her away from Moore and away from the Walkers? Could be both with him, depending on his mood.
“I’ll call you when it’s closer to see what works best. I doubt Blackwell will mind.” Two weeks away, and she didn’t want to leave in the first place.
Chapter Ten
“You’re going to see her again?” Aaron’s blue eyes glowed in the sun.
They stood out in the middle of a cornfield. In front of the five of them, giant swaths of corn stalks were hammered to the ground. They’d likely turn brown from the damage and decay, leaving them with much less yield than before the storm.
It was the same story in field after field. Cash had reported their cattle coming through the storm without loss. The horses had found shelter, too, and were safe. Just their crops, their big cash draw—depending on the markets, of course—took a major hit.
“Yeah, I’m going to see Josie again.” Brock shoved his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms. Four pairs of eyes stared at him.
“She’s cute and all,” Aaron continued, “but she’s still his sister.”
“And,” Travis interjected, “you met because she broke into your barn.”
Brock shook his head. “She didn’t break in. The door was open.”
“I don’t like it.” Cash squatted to inspect the stalks. “It’s Katie Johnson all over again.”
“She’s nothing like Katie.” Brock had forgotten about her—on purpose. Leave it to his cousins to bring it up.
“Bullshit.” Cash checked the ears of corn and muttered, “This was a damn fine crop. Anyway… Katie acted all interested in your cars, too. Aunt Nancy really liked her, too, right?”
Yes, his mom had. But she’d warned Brock that a girl like Katie might not understand how different he was, and he was forbidden to tell anyone, especially a high school girl.
Dillon bent to follow Cash’s lead and check corn that would’ve been a bumper crop that they now couldn’t harvest. “I could barely carry her screaming ass out of the gym,” he said.
Brock ground his jaw together. The pep rally where Katie had turned on him was, hands down, the worst memory of high school. All because he hadn’t asked her to prom. Didn’t know she’d wanted to go. Sure, after the fact, when his mom had pried the story out of him, it had made sense. But only because his mom pointed out
that all those random comments Katie had made were hints.
“I wasn’t going to go with Jenna when she asked me,” Brock argued.
Cash barked out a laugh. “Katie didn’t know that. All her little seventeen-year-old heart knew was that you hadn’t asked her when she saw another girl asking you.”
Brock lifted a stalk of corn with his boot, but it flopped over as soon as he removed the support. “So, you’re saying that Josie’s going to announce to the whole town what a callous bastard I am? How I don’t understand women and I’m bad in bed.”
Fuck, that’d been embarrassing. He hadn’t asked a woman out again until college.
“We all know she was lying.” Aaron snorted a laugh. “Because she’d been bragging about how good you were up until the pep rally.”
“What I’m saying,” Cash continued, “is that Jesse might be in jail, but maybe Josie has another brother who she’ll get to key your car. Only it won’t be on the scale of some spurned high school girl, but a woman who blames you for putting her brother away.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with Jesse.”
“Does it matter?” Cash shot back.
Yes, it did. Because it was the truth. Brock ignored the question. “She’s not like that.”
“No? Wait for it. She’s coming back for the sentencing, right? Wait and see if she starts moaning about how unfair it is Jesse’s in jail.” Cash’s voice rose into a falsetto. “Oh my poor brother, isn’t there anything you could do? He was just in a bad space. He’s not a bad guy.”
“I hate to agree with Cash because he’s an asshole,” Travis’s calm, measured words broke in, “but he might be worth listening to. She’s sexy. She likes cars. Guys have handed over a lot more for a lot less. Just watch yourself.”
Dillon pinned Brock with his intense stare from where he crouched with his elbows resting on his knees. “We’re just looking out for you like we always do.”
Brock adjusted his hat. Yeah, they did. Just like with Katie. Where Brock had been left standing, trying to process what was happening, his cousins were already in action and dragging Katie off the stage.
But Josie wasn’t Katie. She wouldn’t use him.
***
Josie puttered around the kitchen, pulling various ingredients out of the cupboards and the fridge. She had a craving for pancakes and the morning was cool, so firing up the griddle wouldn’t heat the whole house.
Bill was already gone when she woke. Odd. It was Saturday and even though he worked seven days a week, he usually slept in on the weekends. A new lady?
Josie paused and stared at the buttermilk in her hands. He hadn’t been hanging out at the bars, either, which was where he picked up his lady friends. While he was just as sly with the women now as when her mother was alive, Josie hadn’t seen any signs of a relationship.
Ugh. Then he was probably recruiting more pieces for his “hobby.” The doors to the rooms around her office had been locked all week. Paint fumes had clogged the air, but she hadn’t seen what they were working on. In the garage were just the three cars that were on the books as contracted work. Once finished, they’d each bring in a few extra grand. Probably not even enough to cover the interest on the loan.
She finished measuring her ingredients and was stirring the batter when a floorboard creaked.
With a gasp, she whipped around to admonish Bill for scaring the shit out of her. Her breath froze in her lungs.
An average-looking man stood in the kitchen entrance. Other than pockmarked skin that probably mottled and turned red when he was angry, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance in a dark alley.
His brown hair was graying, but trimmed. His hands were in the pockets of navy slacks and his dark eyes watched her much like a lion surveyed the Serengeti.
“Bill around?” he asked in a voice that was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
Her grip tightened around her wooden spoon. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but if this man tried anything, she’d plant every last splinter in him. The way his gaze tracked her, strayed down her body and up again curled her empty stomach. “You know he’s not. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
His eyes lightened with amusement. “He and I have business.”
“Then go find him.” She’d threaten to call the cops, but what would she say? A man came into my home, though the door my dad probably left unlocked, and did nothing but be creepy.
“I think I’ll wait here.” He pushed off the door and sauntered to the old metal table shoved against the wall of the square kitchen. “Smells good, whatever you’re making.”
She swiveled where she stood so her back was never to him. “I haven’t cooked anything yet. I got interrupted.”
He chuckled. Not a sinister laugh, but like they were sharing drinks at the country club. “You do the books for Alvarez Automotive?”
“I do.”
“Then I imagine you’re concerned for your dad.”
“Bill can take care of himself.”
The man reclined in the chair and it squeaked from the weight. He crossed one leg over the other. “Can Bill take care of everyone else, though?”
Wow. That was a veiled threat if she’d ever heard one.
“I didn’t catch your name.” Her knuckles were white around the spoon and she edged to the side to conceal the block of knives on the counter. Half of them were in the dishwasher from last night’s pork chops, but all she’d need was one blade to do damage—to him.
“I didn’t give you my name. But it’s Don Milton. Just wanted to say hi and introduce myself. Your dad and I are going to be working closely together. He borrowed quite a bit of money from me.”
Oh…shit. The gleam in Don’s eye sent shivers coursing over her skin.
Bill, you stupid man.
“You’ve really grown.” The man’s eyes narrowed and swept her from head to toe.
She’d have to cook the pancakes and freeze them. Her mouth went dry, any bite she took would taste like dust.
“I haven’t seen you since you were…much younger. I remember the day. You were working on a Dodge Charger and covered in grime.”
His oily gaze was lost in the memory, as if he enjoyed the younger version of her more than what he saw now.
Wait. The Charger? She’d been so damn excited to get officially hired on. Then Bill had changed her job duties to cleaning the fucking office and balancing their accounts.
Go to college and do our books, but you ain’t working as a mechanic no more.
She’d been so damn angry. Bill had refused to let her work at another garage and would only pay for school if she went for accounting.
“You’ve grown into a lovely woman. Still working for your dad?”
The front door slammed. Bill was home, she heard him grumbling to himself. Josie stayed where she was, facing off with Don Milton.
Bill turned the corner. “Mr. Milton.” His face went ashen. “W-what are you doing here?”
Dread turned into restrained terror on her father’s face when he glanced from the man relaxing at their table to where she stood, pressed against the counter.
“Your daughter invited me over for breakfast.”
Josie’s temper snapped. He was manipulating them and yes, he obviously had Bill by the balls, but she didn’t have to roll over and take it. “No, I didn’t. Get out.”
“Now, Josie. If Mr. Milton wants to stay and eat—”
“He doesn’t give a shit about food, Dad.” She shook her spoon at Milton and ignored the bits of batter splattering the floor. “You came here to intimidate me and my dad. Mission accomplished. Now get out.”
“Josie,” Bill wheezed. His face morphed to beet red, but not out of anger. His large frame shook with agitation.
Mr. Milton rose in a smooth motion. He was two inches shorter than Bill and carried much less weight, but he still seemed to tower over them.
“We’ll talk later, Mr. Alvarez.” His amused gaze slithered to her.
“I look forward to working with you.”
“I don’t,” she retorted.
He chuckled and sauntered out as if he had all morning.
She and Bill stood still until the front door shut. She went to the window and watched as his surprisingly tame four-door car drove off. Then she stormed to the door and flipped the deadbolt.
When she returned to the kitchen, her dad was in the seat Milton had vacated, his head in his hands.
Skipping over the obvious questions she should ask, she went for the one gnawing at her. “He’s the reason you kicked me out of the garage when I was sixteen, isn’t he?”
Bill nodded and dropped his hands, his expression weary. His eyes drifted shut. “We’d lost our health plan and your mom’s blood pressure meds were expensive, so I borrowed a little against the garage.”
“From Don Milton?”
He lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “He lends money when a bank won’t. But…it wasn’t even time for the first payment and I came to work to find him watching you.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You were under the car with your legs sticking out. I didn’t like the way… Anyway, to pay him back, I started taking on the side work, ya know.”
Oh, yeah. She knew. The locked doors.
“I didn’t want you where he could get to you, but I wanted to make sure you were close so I knew where you were at.”
“What did you think he’d do?”
“Does it matter?”
The anger that’d been simmering for a decade faded. Still there, but not stoked by as much resentment. “Did Mom know?”
“I told her what she needed to know.”
There it was. That arrogance of her dad’s that never set well with her.
He must’ve read into her expression. “She was sick, Josephina. I took care of her and I took care of you. Just like I’m going to keep taking care of you.”
“I’m an adult now, Bill. You don’t need to hide bad things from me.”
He waved her off. “You don’t need to be mixed up in this mess any more than you are. I’ll take care of it. I met with Gage this morning and we have a plan.”
Her hands fisted. Of course, he’d talked to Gage already. How much of the trouble they were in was Gage’s idea? “What’s the plan?”
Mustang Summer Page 12
