by Hebby Roman
“It was more along the lines of a song and a dance, but yeah. Closed the deal last week. Packard Realty never mentioned another interested party.”
“It’s not a big deal, I’m glad a local, with ties to the community, got it.” Ben thought he sounded anything but glad. The man’s tone sounded less than sincere. “Say, is that old tank still on the back of the property?”
“You wanting to do some fishing, Neville?”
“I wouldn’t mind going out and drowning a minnow or two, like I used to do on occasion. Would you mind?”
“No, of course not. Elliott and I had thought we’d do the same here in a few days. Why don’t you come with us? We’ll make an afternoon of it.”
“I sure hate to put you boys out,” he said. “I can run out there real quick one day before I scoot out of here.”
Ben’s curiosity jumped several notches. He kept his tone jovial when he said, “We wouldn’t hear of you fishing alone, would we, Elliott?”
“Andrew would have my hide if I neglected his old friend. He might even come with us,” he added. “I’m pretty sure Bridey wouldn’t mind having him out of the house.”
“Good, it’s settled,” Ben said jovially. “Next Sunday afternoon, then?”
“I’ll keep you posted on my schedule, but I should still be here.” The ex-sheriff checked his watch. “Oh, hell, would you look at the time? I promised to meet with some of the boys down at the lodge, and I better get going. I wouldn’t want to be late.” He stood and shook both men’s hands in turn. “I’ll be in touch.”
As the man disappeared outside, Elliott asked, “What do you think he’s up to?”
“I was wondering the same thing, good to know I’m not the only one who’s paranoid. Whatever it is,” Ben speculated, “It isn’t just idle curiosity over who purchased the land. No one’s timing is that good.”
* * *
Dinah put the address into her phone and pulled up the location of her next showing. A couple wanted to move here, from the Metroplex, to raise their young family in the fresh air and wide open spaces. She’d shown them two properties thus far without success. This next one would give them everything they needed, plus a few extras they didn’t know they wanted yet.
She glanced across the street as she closed the door to Packard Realty. The man who’d been in the office earlier talking to Tristi, left the sheriff’s office and headed in the opposite direction. She noticed Elliott’s car parked out front and wondered if he and Ben, together, had made any headway into the Moon Harper story. She had wanted to be more involved, but hadn’t felt any warm fuzzies, when she and Ben were last together at the ranch.
Her phone rang as she started her car. Picking it up, she read the ID and answered, “Hello, Bridey? How are you?”
“Fine, just fine.”
“I’m glad, how’s Irene?”
“She’s feeling better, I think. We’re having a small dinner on Saturday evening, around six. I’ve asked Neville Biggars, and would like you to join us, too. Elliott and Ben will be here, as well.”
“Thank you for asking me, I’d love to come. May I bring something?”
There was a slight hesitation on the phone. “Well, I was going to say no, but, if you have time, could you make your delicious brownies for dessert?”
“Absolutely.” Dinah smiled at the request for her store brand mix. Whether she was simply being nice or she genuinely liked them, Bridey always made a fuss about the brownies. “I’ll make a double batch.”
“Thank you, dear, we’ll see you Saturday, then.”
Dinah ended the call on her end and checked the time. She had an hour before having to meet her clients, more than enough time to stop in at the sheriff’s office, but should she? Perhaps she’d be better off giving him more time to . . . what? Miss her? Cool off? Put more distance between them so he’d forget just how easily she pissed him off? The last was more likely to be the choice, but since she was the one doing the speculating, she chose the first.
Yes. She would stay away from the sheriff until Saturday evening, dress up in the cute little summer number she’d bought on sale, at that outrageously expensive boutique, last fall. And maybe, just maybe, if Ben dropped his defenses, she would be reminded of what she’d left behind.
With her eye on the office front, she eased the gear into drive and headed to the other side of town to convince John and Cindy Green, this property was precisely where they needed to raise their family.
* * *
Ben tossed the paper he’d been reading onto the desk, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, stood and stretched. “Well, if there’s anything tell-tale in this mess, I’m not seeing it.”
“I have to agree with you,” Elliott said. “Maybe we’re completely off the mark in our thinking.”
“I suppose, but the timing is—”
“Timely, I know, but . . .”
Ben walked over to the dry-erase board, he’d setup beside his desk, picked up a marker, and said, “Okay, so let’s list it out.
“Warren Harper, Sr. owns land circa 1940.
“Warren Harper, Jr. joins the Army and marries, Janet Bailey, circa 1949, and then, Bailey (Moon) Harper is born circa 1950.
“In 1955, Warren Jr. is discharged, goes to medical school and, after becoming a doctor in 1959, he decides to come home, with his young family, to McTiernan to set up his practice.
“His father deeds the land to him, and Warren Jr. and wife die in a single car accident in 1960. Moon survives crash and goes to live with his grandfather, Warren, Sr.
“That’s what we know until he disappeared sometime last year,” Ben finished.
“If you’re interested, I could ask the firm’s investigator to do some digging.” Elliott offered.
“That’s a good idea. Gene helped a great deal with your brother’s case and Southern Star.” Ben massaged the worry crease between his eyebrows. It couldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes. “Yeah, go ahead and give him a call. Maybe he’ll have something by the time we talk to Irene on Saturday.”
Chapter Six
Dinah dashed into the office and found Tristi on the phone. Business had tripled in the last few months, according to Packard Realty’s owner, due in large part to folks desiring land and trees around their homes. McTiernan offered that, plus the small town was only about a forty-minute commute from Dallas. Dinah called it a win-win, and used that in her spiel to prospective buyers.
Tristi hung up the receiver and said, “Well?”
“Well, what?” Dinah teased. Where was the fun if she blurted out her news the first step inside the door? She set her shoulder bag onto the back corner of her desk, and grabbed a bottled water from the small fridge. “Who were you talking to?”
“A possible client asking questions about the Henderson place.” Tristi’s neck flushed pink and she huffed out her breath. “Gah! You can be so annoying at times, just tell me . . . did the Greens sign the contract?”
Dinah handed her the packet with the signed agreement, and grinned. “They sure did.”
“Well, that makes my day,” Tristi said, as she removed the documents from the brown envelope to verify the signature. “And, since you’ve earned your beans for the week, I’m giving you the afternoon off.”
Several things ran through her mind, either that she’d wanted or needed to do. Maybe she’d just be really irresponsible and take a nap.
“Before you go making too many plans, though, you should call Maggie. She phoned an hour ago, looking for you.”
Dinah checked her phone for a missed text or call, and sure enough, there it was. “Crap, I did miss her. She hadn’t planned on going anywhere or doing anything when I left this morning.” She touched Maggie’s name on the favorites list on her phone to dial the number. Maggie had also told her, before, how her day could turn liquid in an instant. When the call went to voicemail, she ended the connection just as a text chirped its arrival.
She read the message. “Maggie’s asking
me to pick up the kids from Bridey and keep them for the afternoon. She’s gone for an appointment with the doctor.” Quickly, she typed, B there in a few, and placed her purse strap onto her shoulder. At the door, she said, “Okay, I’m gone. Thanks for the time off, and I’ll see you in the morning, if all goes well with Maggie’s doctor appointment.”
* * *
Ben stood on the front porch of the house at Ben McTiernan Ranch. He’d been there a couple of hours, talking to Elliott, and was on his way out, when Dinah arrived. She was dressed in, what he recognized as her work clothes, blazer, tee shirt, dress jeans, and a pair of sandals with heels. Her hair was pinned up off her shoulders and she looked professional. He didn’t know how she managed it, but she also looked sexy as all get out.
Ben cleared his throat and said, “Looks like you got the message to pick up the kids.”
“I did. Is everything all right?”
“When Graeme brought Andy and Bridget inside, he said either he or Maggie would call us later.”
“Did he seem upset or worried?” Dinah asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” Elliott chimed in, “Graeme’s had the same pinched look on his face since Maggie told him they were expecting twins.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, somewhere between constipation and fear.”
“You, two,” Dinah warned. “Stop picking on him. Neither one of you’ve been in his shoes.”
“Rest assured,” Bridey interjected, as she joined them, “Graeme gives as good as he gets. When the time comes, he will give their grief back to them in spades.”
“Good.” Dinah slanted Ben a glance, and followed Bridey into the house.
“Wow, that was a look,” Elliott said, after Dinah closed the door behind her. “What have you done this time?”
“Man, I wish I knew.” Ben pushed his Stetson to the front of his head and scratched the back of his neck. The mixed messages she was sending recently – hold me, don’t touch me, kiss me, but don’t make it personal - crossed his mind. “I’m not sure she knows anymore.” He repositioned his hat and shrugged his shoulders. “But, hey, that’s an investigation for another day. I’d like to get this one wrapped up before I tackle another cold case.”
Elliott shook his head. “I hear you.”
“It’ll be interesting to see what Gene can find out about Moon’s missing years. Thanks for getting us together on that conference call.”
“Sure. If the info’s out there, he’ll find it.”
Ben directed his attention to the front door as it opened. Andy came onto the porch behind Dinah, who carried the little girl, Bridget, who was fussing up a storm. Bridey came out last, carrying the diaper bag.
Andy grumbled, “But I don’t want to go to the park, Auntie DeeDee. I just wanna go home and play my games.”
“It’s too pretty to be cooped up inside the house. We’re going to do something fun.”
“But we always go to the park,” he protested, arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
Ben watched the little girl’s face turn red and contort until she looked like a round rutabaga. She spat out the pacifier and wailed, madder than a hornet. He wanted to laugh but thought better of it. Instead, he decided to take pity on Dinah, who seemed a bit frazzled.
He picked up the discarded paci, handed it to Dinah, and suggested, “Hey, Andy, did you know I have new fish in my stock tank?”
“Really?”
“Yes, how about we take your sister and Auntie DeeDee to see ‘em?”
The little boy-turned-mini-projectile darted for the car, but Ben grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “Whoa, slow down there. Give me five minutes to get the car seat and your booster into the car, and then we’ll go. Okay?”
Elliott laughed. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Oh, yeah, there’s enough out there to keep him busy for a while.” He turned to where Graeme had set the safety seats on the porch and picked them up. He looked at Dinah when she snagged his shirt sleeve.
“Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
Half an hour later, Ben pulled to a stop, a short distance from the stock tank. Fresh tire tracks and boot prints, on the back side, confirmed the fish had been delivered. One thing off his to-do list. He opened the back passenger door on his side, unbuckled Andy, and turned him loose.
As Andy ran toward the water, Dinah’s panic-filled voice rang out, “Stay back from the water, Andy! Wait for us!”
Ben walked around the back of the SUV to help her with the diaper bag and baby, who was awake and screaming again, thanks to Dinah shouting. “Let the boy go, Di, he won’t get in the water.”
“But we’re responsible,” she said, less panicked, but anxious. “I still remember last year, don’t you?”
“Yes, but he’s had swimming lessons since then and . . .” He saw the worry etched into her beautiful face and understood the responsibility she felt for the child. “Come on, let’s get you and little one settled on the blanket, and I’ll watch him closer, okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He helped to set her up under a tree, and watched her handle the baby and all it entailed. She changed Bridget’s diaper, handed her a clean paci, and then held her, rocking her back and forth, rubbing her back to quiet her. One day, when the time came, Dinah would make a good mother. He wanted to tell her that, but refrained, since he’d lost the ability to know how she’d interpret what he said.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No,” she whispered and smiled. “I think she’ll go back to sleep, now.”
Giving her a thumbs up, he grabbed the fishing rod he kept in the back of his car, and then headed over to where Andy was poking the ground with a stick. He doubted they’d catch anything, but getting a line wet should keep the kid busy for a while. It would also keep him from thinking about his relationship, or non-relationship, with Dinah Horne.
* * *
Dinah watched Ben play with Andy. They climbed trees, tossed rocks, and fished. Ben let Andy tie on the lure, and helped him cast into the water a couple of times before he left him to fish by himself. Or, at least, Andy thought he was by himself. Ben was close enough to be by his side in a matter of seconds, if need be.
Ben Hammond was such a good man, why did she keep standing in her own way?
When he reached her, she said, “He’s sure having a good time, isn’t he?”
“I think so, and he’s pretty good at casting for his age.” He sat beside her on the blanket and asked, “How are you girls doing?”
“We’re good. Bridget’s still sleeping, thank goodness. She was so zonked, she never knew when I laid her on the blanket.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Kid’s got a set of lungs on her, doesn’t she?”
“I guess, if you were cutting teeth and had no other way to let someone know, you’d be just as loud.”
“I don’t remember that time in my life, but I’m thinking I’d be pretty grumpy.”
“You would. Think of it like an ingrown toenail. You can’t tell anyone what hurts and it just keeps throbbing.”
“Well, that paints a picture.” He winced and reached over to rub Bridget’s back.
Dinah marveled at the size of his hand and the gentleness with which he touched the small child. She shouldn’t, though, for she knew how tender and gentle he could be. They sat beside each other, watching Andy, repeatedly and tirelessly, cast the line into the middle of the tank. The whole scene so peaceful that she was reminded of why she’d left McTiernan in the first place, and the hardest to admit . . . why she’d come back.
She’d told herself she had come back because Maggie needed her, which was partly true, but not really, because Maggie had tons of family help. In truth, she hadn’t yet been able to reconcile the fact that she hadn’t been able to support herself in the big city. Competition was so steep she’d needed a second job in order to pay her rent and bills. She hadn’t lied, when she told Ben that
she had a chef in her apartment building, she’d simply omitted that she’d worked for him in the kitchen of the hotel.
When it came right down to it, she’d missed Ben. She hadn’t missed him telling her what to do, when to do, or how to do, that was for sure. But she’d missed knowing he was near, missed his goodness, his honesty . . . his stability. She needed to tell him that, had been going to tell him the other night, before the break-in, and the subsequent dealings with Irene.
He leaned back, resting on his elbows, soaking in the warmth of the day, with his eyes closed.
“Ben?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember the other night I said I wanted to talk to you?”
“Umm-hmm.”
She sat straighter, and wrapped her arms around her raised, bended knees. Taking a deep fortifying breath, she bit the bullet and said, “I want to apologize to you and explain why I—”
Splash!
“Andy!” She jumped up, staring toward the tank.
In the split second of her realizing Andy had fallen, or jumped, into the tank, Ben was running to him. He shouted, “Di, stay there with the baby, I’ve got him!”
He jumped into the water and waded the short distance to where the boy clung to the fishing rod. After dislodging his tight grip, he carried Andy, drenched and complaining, back to where she stood, and handed him to her. He squirmed in her arms trying to get down.
“No,” he insisted. “Put me down, I dropped the fishing rod in the water.”
Ben handed her a worn towel from the back of his SUV, and ruffled the boy’s wet head. “I’ll get it, you stay here with DeeDee and get dry.”
She took the towel and removed Andy’s shirt and shorts. After he was marginally dry, she wrapped the towel around his waist. “We don’t have any dry clothes for you, buddy. I hadn’t planned on you taking a dunk.”
“I didn’t want to, but someone pulled Uncle Ben’s fishing rod out of my hands.”
“Really?” Knowing Andy’s vivid imagination, she played along. “Who do you think it was? Nessie or Big Foot?”
