The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

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The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1 Page 64

by Danielle Stewart


  “Seems like it,” Dallas agreed, trying not to look overly anxious to chat. Though he knew this would be his best way to find out more about Angus, no one ever liked someone they thought was prying. “Too bad about her dad. Was it a car accident or something?”

  “No,” the man said in a low voice, checking over his shoulder as he spoke. “My name’s Peanut,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Peanut?” Dallas asked, unable to hide his amusement.

  “Believe it or not, I was a late bloomer. A tiny kid.” He patted his large belly and laughed at the irony.

  “My name is Dallas,” he said as they exchanged a firm handshake. “I’ve heard good things about this place, but never tried it. I had no idea about her father.”

  “Murdered,” Peanut whispered. “A goddamn tragedy. The man was a saint. Did everything to make sure his wife and daughter were well taken care of and protected.”

  “They needed protection?” Dallas asked. “The restaurant business isn’t all that dangerous is it?”

  “Not if you’re willing to grease the wheels it’s not. Far as I knew Angus always paid his dues to keep things around here going smooth. There’s no way he’d have taken a risk and not paid. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah,” Dallas said, sipping on his water. “Protection. I know what you mean. I grew up not far from here. I know how that works.”

  “They all liked him, which tells me he paid, and probably always on time. But he didn’t have any other enemies. It had to be them. Maybe he pissed one of them off. You never know.” Peanut swirled a forkful of spaghetti up so skillfully it looked as though he’d practiced it every day.

  “They arrest anyone?” Dallas asked, thinking about Tim rotting in a prison cell while the real murderer went free all this time.

  “Some kid, I don’t know him. Probably some low level member trying to gain some notoriety. It’s a goddamn shame.” Peanut shook his head and did a quick sign of the cross, likely asking forgiveness for using the Lord’s name in vain.

  “They give the girls here any trouble?” Dallas asked, wondering if the people putting the screws to Angus were still causing problems. Still a threat.

  “Genie would have told me if they were,” Peanut assured him. “Maybe they realized killing her father was enough payment. The guys when I was growing up, it was so different. If I were a younger man, I’ll tell you . . .” Peanut trailed off, loading his mouth with meatballs. “The squeeze they have on these places. It’s a damn crime.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Dallas said, shaking his head in disgust. He knew better than to press for a name, it would only raise a red flag. It had to be a crime family in the area, and he’d be able to narrow it down. Larry hadn’t had any direct connections to any of the families, but this could put them on the right track to piece it together.

  “You’ll love the meatballs,” Peanut assured him, tapping his glass and smiling as Genie came by and filled it with more wine.

  "I’m sure I will,” he agreed, taking another look around the quaintly decorated, cozy restaurant. Maybe he’d bring Harlan here sometime. Sometime when he wasn’t commissioned to protect her. Some night when she wasn’t worried about Rylie. Some night when everything was easy.

  “You married?” Peanut asked, grabbing a piece of bread and mopping up some of the sauce from his plate.

  “No,” Dallas answered with a laugh. “I don’t do love. It’s a nice concept but it’s not for me.”

  “Oh please,” Peanut scoffed. “Love is for everyone. Don’t be stupid. It’s the reason for waking up in the morning.”

  “Love is essentially a weakness,” Dallas explained. “It’s creating a vulnerability where you didn’t have one. In my line of work anything that makes you susceptible to more danger is a liability I can’t afford. The second you start loving someone, valuing them more than yourself, is the moment you can’t make objective choices. You can’t see clear enough to do what needs to be done.”

  “Love is a weakness,” Peanut laughed, using his napkin to wipe his mustache clean. “Genie are you hearing this? Love is a weakness, this guy says.”

  Genie laughed too as she brought him his first plate. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” she teased.

  “I’m just saying that love removes clarity. We’re this wonderfully evolved species, yet we let a feeling run our lives. Situations are what they are. They are logical. They are fact. Then all the sudden you love someone, and there’s a variable that can’t be factored in. This strange abstract dynamic that can’t be summed up or accounted for, now becomes your entire life? I just don’t buy into that.”

  “You’re depressing me,” Genie groaned, handing him some extra napkins. “Love doesn’t make you weak; it gives you more reasons to be strong. More purpose. More resolve. Love doesn’t keep you from seeing clearly; it lets you see what you never even knew was there.”

  “That was beautiful, Genie,” Peanut said, grabbing her hand and kissing it affectionately. “This guy here doesn’t seem half bad. Maybe you take her out on a date?”

  “I don’t deserve her,” Dallas chuckled.

  “And I’m engaged,” Genie said, swatting at Peanut and showing a tiny, almost invisible diamond.

  “Oh yeah, yeah. That’s right. Bill. He’s a mailman. Irish. As exciting as two dead dogs fighting.”

  “He’s the one,” Genie announced, rolling her eyes. “We all find the right one. You will too, I’m sure.” She pointed at Dallas and smiled.

  “Maybe.” Dallas shrugged, laying his napkin across his lap and getting ready to dig in. His phone chirped, and he instantly thought of Harlan. Would it be a funny text, a silly picture of her and the girls baking, or more like burning, some cookies.

  Lilly: Your friend stayed the night but left in a hurry this morning. He’s not planning on coming back. Sorry.

  Dallas tucked his phone away as more plates came down in front of him. Genie had created a practical buffet and while he couldn’t bring back her father, he could pay some homage by eating his recipes.

  “Even if you don’t believe in love,” Genie teased, “you’ll have a deep and ardent affection for that calamari.”

  “I have no doubt,” Dallas said, scooping a heaping pile onto his plate. “If I ever do decide love’s not so bad, I’ll bring her here so you can tell me I told you so.”

  “Don’t wait too long,” Genie warned. “I could change the menu.”

  After taking a taste of each dish, Dallas shook his head. “Don’t change a damn thing.”

  Chapter 16

  Harlan’s phone was clutched in her hand when Dallas came through the door. There was a faraway look on her face, the kind that only comes when your thoughts transcend the moment and carry you far away.

  “What’s the matter?” Dallas asked, feeling the urge to hold her and make whatever it was better.

  “Rylie called,” she sighed. “I already know he didn’t stay in the rehab. He’s not going to get help. Not right now anyway.”

  “What I said yesterday,” Dallas choked out, “was way out of line. It’s not a reflection of how he feels about the girls. It’s a disease, and people need to find their own way through it.” He was by her side, a hand on her back as she tucked her phone away.

  “Mathew is coming up from Texas in the morning,” she explained, leaning ever so slightly into him. “He and his girlfriend, Jessica, are going to take the girls to Cliver Island for the weekend. He’s going to coordinate security with Emmitt. The Island is isolated, and I don’t think they’ll have much trouble securing it.”

  “And you’re not going?” Dallas asked, practically seeing the pain wringing her out like wet laundry.

  “They’ll have more fun without me right now,” Harlan explained, shaking her head. “They love Mathew and Jessica. It’ll be nice for them to have some fun with family and not have a mommy around who’s barely holding it together.”

  “You’re holding it together just fine,” he assure
d her, sweeping her hair out of her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

  “I want to do something,” she declared, banging a hand down on the kitchen counter. “I want to lock myself in the room and do something to help Tim. If I’ve got a couple of days without the girls, I need to be busy. I just need to do something that feels worthwhile.”

  “I did come up with some more information about Angus today. I talked to his daughter at the restaurant. She didn’t know much, but there was a guy named Peanut—”

  “A guy named Peanut?” Harlan interrupted, and Dallas felt a rush in his chest at the return of her smile.

  “Yes, and the only thing more amusing than his name was his mustache. He had a lot to say about Angus being the victim of a protection ring. I didn’t get the details. I didn’t want to press my luck. But it’s more leads to chase down.”

  “I’m sure I’ll slow you down,” Harlan apologized, busying herself with the removal of cookie crumbs from the counter. “Don’t feel obligated to keep me busy.”

  Dallas could think of a thousand ways to pass time with Harlan. The fantasies ranged from something as simple as a drink by the beach, to rolling in the sand, and throwing her bathing suit into the waves.

  “This was your idea,” he countered. “I had been so close to the case, so caught up in proving Tim didn’t do this that I had tunnel vision. It’s about the worst thing a cop can do. Your idea sparked something I’d been neglecting. It’s why cops have partners.”

  “Are you saying I’m like an honorary police officer? Did you just deputize me or something?” The flutter in her happy eyes made him feel a sense of possibility he hadn’t in a long while.

  “I’m not even on the force anymore,” he sighed, knowing his face sank at that reminder. Becoming a police officer had made him the man he’d always wanted to be. Tim’s arrest and his determination to get him exonerated took all that from him. It was still worth it, but tearing his badge out of his hands, they’d taken a chunk of him with it. “But there are all kinds of partners. We can be private investigators. At least for the next few days. Melissa is sending over every scrap of paper associated with the original trial along with what she’ll need for the next appeal.”

  “My mother’s friend Marigold is coming over,” Harlan explained, her eyes darting away anxiously.

  “Marigold?”

  “Don’t worry,” Harlan smirked. “She’s been fully vetted by security. She’s a sixty-five-year-old former beauty queen, and they’ve been friends for fifty years. When my mom has . . .” She paused, searching for the right word. “My mom is worried about Rylie and still has trouble believing the girls and I are safe after what happened with my father. Sometimes that boils up, and she goes into overload. Marigold is the perfect person to be with her right now. My brother will have the girls, Mom will have her friend, and you and I . . .” she trailed off as though finishing the sentence with what was really on her mind would be mortifying.

  “We’ll work,” Dallas said coolly. “We’ll find something Melissa can use, and we’ll help Tim.”

  “Where?” Harlan asked, her eyes dancing with excitement that sent a shockwave through his body.

  “Not here?” he asked, gesturing around her mother’s kitchen. “I’m fine wherever.”

  “The more peace and quiet my mother can get the better. I know she’ll be in good hands. We should go somewhere else.”

  “Paris?” Dallas joked.

  “We could.” She smiled. “My brother will be coming on the company jet. It would take us anywhere we wanted.”

  “But?” he asked, reading the apprehension on her face.

  “I know it’s hard to understand. It must look like I’m dying for a break from the girls. As much as I need it, and they need it, I can’t imagine being on the other side of the world. I want to stay close.”

  “Agreed,” Dallas said, nodding thoughtfully. “I’m positive your brother and the Island are enough to keep the girls safe, but I’d like to stay close too. I know a place.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through for a familiar phone number. “Is two hours away too far?”

  “I could manage with that,” she smiled. “Are you going to keep me in suspense?”

  “You hate surprises, don’t you?” Dallas asked, playfully hiding the screen on his phone so she couldn’t see it.

  “My life is a surprise, minute to minute. I’d prefer not to have any more added to the mix.” She slid a freshly baked cookie toward him as though that might sweeten the deal enough for him to divulge.

  “Trust me,” Dallas said simply. “Look me in the eye.” He moved in close to her and tipped her chin up with his finger. “Trust that I’ll make the surprise good.”

  “That’s asking a lot, considering how things have been going for me lately. Every time I turn around things get worse.” Harlan’s face filled with surprise as Dallas took her hand. Lifting it over her head and placing one hand on the small of her back he spun her gently as though they were just finishing an elegant dance. When she made it the entire way around and landed in his arms, he smiled.

  “You turned around, did it get worse?” he challenged playfully. “Trust me, Harlan.”

  “Why?” she asked in a faraway voice. It wasn’t filled with cynicism or skepticism but a plea to be reassured.

  “Because you can,” he replied simply. “Because I promise.”

  Chapter 17

  Harlan hadn’t packed correctly. That was the problem with surprises; they didn’t allow for meticulous checking and rechecking of every detail. As Dallas’s truck climbed the steep hills toward their destination Harlan went through the checklist of everything she should have brought.

  “Are we camping?” she asked nervously. “Because I didn’t bring anything for that. It’s cold. We’ll need special gear.”

  “What kind of special gear?” Dallas teased. “Have you done much camping?”

  “Once,” she admitted. “We were in a RV though. But we had sleeping bags. So that counts.”

  “We aren’t camping,” he assured her, navigating the narrow road. Branches tapped on each side of the truck as the opening through the woods grew smaller.

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going? This seems like the middle of nowhere. Is there cell service? I don’t want to be anywhere the girls can’t reach me.”

  “Trust,” Dallas explained, “is not that I will take you somewhere you won’t hate; it’s that I will take you somewhere that has everything you need to feel happy. That includes being reachable, being warm enough, feeling safe, and being able to get back to civilization if needed. When I asked you to trust me I meant trust that I know what you need.”

  “Figuring out what I need and finding a way to give it to me, that would make a total of one of us in this car who’s good at that.”

  “One’s enough,” Dallas said as he pointed to a light in the distance. “We’ll have a roof over our head, food, firewood, Wi-Fi, and great cell service. It was set up that way.”

  “What is this place?” Harlan asked with a bit of exhilaration in her voice. The trees cleared in front of them and a tall and narrow dark wood cabin stood in front of them. Light poured from the window as night began to close in around them. Trees that seemed as tall as mountains hugged tight around the truck as Dallas put it in park.

  “This was a safe house, emphasis on the word safe. It has a top-of-the-line security system I can operate from my phone. See,” he hit a few buttons and turned the lights on and off in the cabin. “It’s got a great vantage point up here on the hill; no one could sneak up. We used it during a few cases, but when the department was done with it they auctioned it off. I know the guy who bought it. He lends it to me when I need to clear my head.”

  “This place seems plenty secure,” she said, leading the conversation to the one place she wanted it. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your particular kind of services then. I’ll fire you for the next couple of days.”

  �
��Normally I would disagree,” he said, stepping out of the truck and rounding it quickly to open her door. “I would argue that a house cannot replace a competent and trained professional, but in this case I think you’ll be fine without me on duty. This house, in this location—I think I could clock out for a while.”

  “That would make things interesting.” She stepped out into the cold night air and stood very still, his hand in hers. It was an effort to support her as she came down from the truck, but his hand lingered, and she let it. “It’s so peaceful,” she whispered, her eyes turned toward the sky. “There are so many stars.”

  “Start wishing.” His other hand shot up and pointed out the trail of a falling star.

  “I haven’t seen one of those in ages,” she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You did so good.”

  “You haven’t even seen inside yet.”

  “Do we have to go inside? I just want to stand here and watch for another shooting star.” They didn’t have to wait long as a second streak of light whizzed across the cloudless purple-black sky.

  “Over the bed in the room you’re staying in there is an enormous skylight. It’s got to be at least half of the ceiling. If you turn off the lights and look up, it’s amazing.”

  “The room I’m staying in?” she asked, fixing her eyes on his face, waiting for a reaction. He was too good for that. Too well trained and with an excellent poker face.

  “Yes,” he nodded coolly. “You’ve got a great room in the back of the house. You’ll love it, it’s right near mine.”

  “Convenient.”

  “I guess we won’t know how convenient until later,” Dallas said, rubbing a hand across his beard and finally turning his eyes to her. “There’re some warm pajamas in your size on the bed. There should be a cheese and fruit tray in the fridge. I’ll start the fire, and you open the wine.”

  “This is a tired woman’s dream come true,” she cooed, looping her arm in his as the little bit of lingering snow and ice crunched below their feet. “If there’s a bathtub in there I may never leave.”

 

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