Christmas at Colts Creek

by Delores Fossen

  “Sorry, but I don’t. I just recall Abe saying, not in a pleasant kind of way either, that the person was supposed to be one of the best PIs in the business so he should do his damn job.”

  So, Abe hadn’t been pleased with this PI. Or heck, maybe Abe talked like that to most people. Janessa thanked the doctor, asked him to call her if he thought of anything else, and when she ended the call, she turned to Brody.

  “Abe never told me anything about hiring a PI,” Brody said before she could ask. “It’s possible, though, that he wanted a background check on an owner of a business or some land he was interested in buying.” He paused. “But I don’t recall him ever doing anything like that.”

  It was the timing of the PI that worried Janessa. “All of this happened around the same time he wrote me that letter, and I still don’t know what he wanted to tell me or what he believed I could fix.”

  Brody made a sound of agreement. “Well, if he hired a PI, then he would have had to pay him. That should be in his personal financial records on his computer. He didn’t pay for him through any of the ranch accounts. If he had, I would have seen it since I handle all of those.”

  Janessa followed him when Brody headed down the hall to his office. He snagged the laptop and charger cord from the floor and carried them to his desk. The moment he had the computer plugged in, he booted it up.

  “Please tell me you know his password,” Janessa commented.

  “There won’t be one to get into the computer itself, and the password for his bank will be saved on the site. At least that’s what Abe told me in case I ever needed to get into his account.”

  That was a reminder of how much Abe had trusted Brody, which made all of this so puzzling. He hadn’t told Brody about the will, the letter to her and now the PI.

  Brody sat in his chair, navigated to the bank website and logged in. Just as Abe had said, the password was indeed there. “I’ll start with his credit cards,” Brody explained, “but it’s possible he wrote the guy a check. If so, we can go through the bank statements.”

  Janessa stood over his shoulder and looked at the credit card info that Brody accessed. Of course, there were no charges since his death, and Asher had put a freeze on it to make sure no one tried to use it. But it was obvious that Abe preferred plastic over checks, and he spent a lot of money on restaurants, clothes and travel.

  It didn’t take Brody long though to zoom in on the payment to Barton Investigations. The five-thousand-dollar charge, which was possibly a retainer, had been made about two weeks before Abe’s death. There didn’t appear to be any other payments before that.

  “Barton Investigations,” Brody repeated, switching to a search engine so he could pull up info. “Solid reviews,” he muttered, glancing at that first before he went to the actual web page.

  “Victor Barton is the owner,” Janessa read. There were several other PIs listed, but she figured Abe would have gone for the boss, not one of his employees.

  She used her phone to call the number on the site, and she was surprised when someone answered. She’d thought that maybe the office would be closed since it was the day before Thanksgiving.

  “Barton Investigations,” a woman greeted. “I’m Olivia Martinez, office manager. How may I help you?”

  “I need to speak to Victor Barton.”

  “I’m sorry, but he’s on vacation for a week,” the woman responded. “I can take a message, and he’ll get back to you as soon as he can, or you can speak to one of our other investigators.”

  Janessa had a quick debate as to how to handle this. “I’m Janessa Parkman, and my father, Abe Parkman, recently passed away. I was going through some of his things and found that he’d hired Mr. Barton. Could you please tell me what Mr. Barton was investigating for my father?”

  There was a short silence on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information. You can bring in the death certificate, along with proof that you’re Mr. Parkman’s next of kin, and then we can make copies of our files.”

  According to what she’d last heard from Asher, she wouldn’t get the death certificate for another month or so. Janessa didn’t want to wait a month or for the PI to return from vacation. She had a gut feeling that the PI could answer a whole lot of their questions.

  So Janessa pushed with a lie. “My father thought that someone might be trying to harm him. And me,” she added to make this sound more urgent. “Please help me. I need to know if I’m in danger.”

  There was another short silence, followed by a sigh. “Let me access the file and see what’s there.”

  Janessa didn’t exactly hold her breath, but she was certain she wasn’t taking in as much air as she should. She assured herself if this failed, then she could go the other route and find the info in a month or two. It was also possible that this had nothing to do with Abe’s personal life and was merely, as Brody had suggested, part of a business deal.

  “I’ve just pulled up the file,” the office manager said several long moments later, “and it does say that your father felt there was some kind of threat.”

  Oh, mercy. Apparently, her gut feeling had been right.

  “I can’t go into the details of the investigation,” the woman continued, “because Mr. Barton hasn’t included the info, but I can see from the billable hours that he did at least some of the background work that your father had wanted.”

  “What kind of background work?” Janessa asked.

  “Financials, interviews, that sort of thing. According to the initial contract, your father had received some disturbing photos. It doesn’t say what those photos were, but he almost certainly gave Mr. Barton copies.”

  Photos. That seemed to be going around, what with the one of Layla that someone had sent to Darcia and the one that Sophia had gotten of Abe with the mystery woman.

  “Mr. Parkman requested any and all information on two people. Father and son,” the office manager clarified. “And because there might be a threat, I’ll tell you that their names are Jimmy and Brody Harrell.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BRODY SAT ON his porch, sipping a Lone Star while he watched the setting sunlight glint off the pond. The view was just about as perfect as perfect could get, and he considered finishing his beer in the hammock that he’d strung up between two oaks by the pond. It wasn’t exactly toasty warm with the temps in the high forties, but he had a firepit. Plus, it’d be worth the chill just to sit there and let himself level out.

  He’d had plenty of evenings just like this, and he’d never taken a single one of them for granted. Having his own place had always meant something to him. He didn’t take it for granted now, either, but he knew he wouldn’t have many more nights like this one.

  He refused to feel bitter about that. He’d known the risks of building his place on what had once been part of the ranch. With the ranch literally surrounding him, there was no way for him to expand, especially since Abe had made it clear he didn’t want to sell any more of the adjoining land. But Brody had gone through with buying the five acres and building on it because he’d loved this particular spot. However, he’d always known that if Abe and he ever had a falling out, then he might have to leave.

  Well, the falling out had apparently happened.

  Of course, Brody had been completely unaware of it, not until four days ago—the day before Thanksgiving—when he’d learned that Abe had hired that PI to look for any and all information on him and his father. That certainly explained why Abe had basically cut him out of the will, but what Brody couldn’t figure out was why Abe had started to distrust him in the first place.

  Abe had gotten some disturbing photos the office manager had explained to Janessa. Abe hadn’t mentioned that, either, but Brody had to wonder if it was connected to Layla’s death. The same person who sent a photo to Darcia could have also sent one to Abe. But why would Abe have belie
ved he’d have any part in that? Yeah, Abe had lent Layla the car, but the blame for her being behind the wheel that night was on Brody’s shoulders.

  Where it weighed him down like a mountain of boulders.

  Always would.

  The memories came. They always did. Of that sweltering summer night. Of the storm that had come raging through.

  Of his sister’s death.

  A couple of weeks after the funeral, Abe had apologized for lending her the car, but he hadn’t dwelled on it. Or rather he hadn’t seemed to do that, but maybe there’d been enough kernels of guilt for Abe to believe all these years later that Brody blamed him. Brody didn’t.

  But it was possible that Jimmy had.

  Equally possible that Abe had believed Brody knew something about Jimmy’s involvement and considered that whole falsehood of blood being thicker than water. It wasn’t. Brody had no father–son feelings left for Jimmy, but he had had some of that for Abe. In hindsight, Abe hadn’t felt any of that for him.

  Yeah, it was time to move on.

  That confirmation came at the exact same moment he spotted the headlights of the car coming toward the house. It was dark now, but he could make out enough of the vehicle to know it was Janessa. That brought on a new wave of memories. Not bad ones. But complicated ones. They had definitely been doing the foreplay dance around each other, and it was probably time to dive in or nip it in the bud.

  Janessa parked, stepped from the car, and after one glance, Brody knew there’d be no nipping. Nope, this was a dive-in sort of thing that was already in motion.

  “Are you up for some company?” she asked in a silky siren’s voice.

  All right, maybe the voice was his imagination, but that smile was definitely an invitation for them to pick up where they’d left off four days ago. Those kisses hadn’t been of the long steamy variety, but they’d had plenty of potential.

  “I’m up for it,” he assured her. Of course, he could have worded that so it didn’t sound dirty, but he had the feeling she’d come here for dirty.

  Janessa was wearing jeans with a sweater and coat, and she didn’t limp when she made her way onto the porch. That was good because it meant that broken toe was finally healing.

  “Margo and Velma Sue are at the house with Teagan,” she said, taking his beer and having a sip. “Margo’s new boyfriend is there, too.”

  Deputy Ollie Bellows. Brody had definitely heard the gossip about that. “Ollie’s a good guy,” he assured her.

  “He seems it. Margo said he’s moving a little slow with her, though.”

  Slow for Margo meant Ollie hadn’t groped her and hauled her off to bed on their first date. Ollie would either end up frustrating Margo or else he’d get the woman to slow down and enjoy the ride.

  “Nothing back from the PI yet,” Janessa continued. The breeze stirred her hair. “I called his office again, and the office manager said he was at his hunting cabin in Montana and that he didn’t answer his phone while he was there.”

  Brody wasn’t planning on sitting on pins and needles for the guy to call back. Especially since it likely wouldn’t be good news. Brody certainly couldn’t think of a good reason why Abe would have wanted him investigated.

  “Have you been avoiding me again?” she came out and asked—after she gave him an instant hard-on by leaning down and brushing her mouth over his.

  He shook his head. “No. Work. I was tied up.”

  She smiled again. “Now, that’s an interesting image to have in my head.”

  He’d had enough of the playful teasing so Brody merely caught onto her waist and pulled her down to him. Her butt landed on his lap. Not a bad place for her to be at all. She touched her mouth to his again. Pulled back and smiled. He hadn’t turned on the porch light, but the moon made it pretty easy for him to see her face.

  “You seemed...settled or something,” she said. So, obviously she had no trouble seeing him, either.

  “That’s one word for it.” A good word, too, for the peace he’d found over selling this place and moving on.

  Moving on from Abe, as well.

  Brody refused to believe the last decade and a half of his life had been wasted. Just the opposite. He’d learned a lot running Abe’s ranch, and he’d put that experience to good use on his next place.

  “You seem...unconflicted,” he settled for saying.

  She laughed. “I have two months left here, and I want to spend some of that with you. I hate that you won’t be running this ranch, hate what Abe did to you, but I decided I could keep dwelling on that or come over here and see if you’re...unconflicted, too.”

  Brody didn’t answer her. Not with words anyway. Setting his beer down on the porch, he kissed her. It wasn’t a touch or a brush, either. He kissed her the way he’d been thinking about kissing her for the entire month she’d been back in Last Ride. Nothing unconflicted about this.

  Well, not about the heat anyway.

  It was there and felt ready to blaze right out of control. He decided to take Janessa’s approach and not dwell on the possibility that they might end up regretting anything they did here tonight.

  She was clearly on the same page with him because she went right with the kiss. Moving into him, making a moan of hungry pleasure when he turned it French. He recalled her teasing him with that whole “French kiss him and see where it’d go.” Well, it was going just fine. Then again, her mouth had turned his brain to mush so it was entirely possible that he wasn’t even having a sane, logical thought right now.

  Brody didn’t break the kiss, but he took hold of her, moving her. That, of course, meant there was some very groin-tightening contact going on. Plenty of touching. Sliding. Hitting all the right spots. He savored every one of the moments that it took him to position her so that she was straddling him.

  And, man, did that make the “right spots” contact even better.

  With the heat firing, he had to touch her. Had to keep kissing her. So, he slid his hand between them and cupped her breast. She did a little hand sliding of her own, and her clever fingers found their way to his chest. Then she shoved up his shirt and put her hands on his bare stomach.

  All in all, it was a good way to keep revving up things. And speaking of up and revving, in all the maneuvering on his lap, her sweater had slid up, making it very easy for him to do some more maneuvering. Brody trailed his hand first to her breasts. And then lower, lower, lower into her jeans. So he could touch the front of her white lace panties.

  She gasped, moaned, and her eyes practically rolled back in pleasure. “Just how private is your front porch?” she muttered.

  “Private,” he assured her. But he had no intention of having sex with her in a rocking chair. This was just the foreplay. A very heated round of foreplay, but he intended to take her to his bed to finish what they’d started here.

  Hooking both his arms around her, Brody stood so he could begin that trek to his bedroom. Just as her phone rang.

  “Crap, crap, crappity, crap,” she grumbled. Janessa hooked her legs around his waist, kissed him and then yanked her phone from the pocket of her jeans. She repeated her crap profanity when she saw the name on the screen.

  “It’s Teagan,” she muttered. “I have to take it.”

  Of course, she did, and Brody’s first thought—a bad one—was that Riggs had shown up and was trying to get in the house. That wouldn’t be a smart move on his part, what with a deputy inside, but Riggs might not know that.

  “Teagan,” Janessa said when she answered, “is everything okay?”

  “No. You need to come fast,” Teagan answered, and Brody set Janessa back on her feet when they heard the fear in her voice. “Fast,” she repeated. “I need to get to the hospital. My water broke.”

  * * *

  JANESSA NEVER CONSIDERED herself a pacer, but that’s what she was doing now. So were Margo an
d Sophia. Margo and Deputy Bellows had made the frantic drive to the hospital behind Brody and her after they’d picked up Teagan.

  Literally.

  The moment they’d gotten to the ranch house, Brody had scooped up the girl, put her in his truck, and they’d taken Teagan to Labor and Delivery. Velma Sue had called Sophia, and since the inn was just up the street, Sophia had beaten them all to the hospital.

  Brody wasn’t pacing, though. He was leaning against the wall in the small waiting area, his arms folded over his chest and his boots crossed at the ankles. To a casual observer, he might appear to be lounging, but Janessa could see the tight set of his jaw.

  “The baby’s coming too early,” Janessa muttered, not for the first time this evening, either. She’d been saying similar statements since a nurse had wheeled Teagan away to an exam room.

  Sophia must have heard her mutterings because she gave a variation of something she’d been saying during that hour. “Both Teagan and the baby will be fine. You’ll see.” But like Brody’s tight jaw, there was tension in her mother’s voice.

  Janessa prayed Sophia was right, that both would be fine, but the baby was coming a month early, and there could be complications. She silently cursed her decision to let Teagan stay here. Even though the girl had seemed to settle in and even relax some at the ranch, it probably would have been better had she stayed in Dallas so she’d have access to a medical center rather than a small-town hospital.

  She paced her way toward Brody, knowing that just being near him would soothe her. It did. Funny how that worked. Right before Teagan’s call, he definitely hadn’t been soothing. He’d been firing up every part of her body, and they’d been within minutes of having sex. Maybe seconds since she wasn’t at all sure they would have actually made it to his bedroom.

  There’d be other chances for them to haul each other off to bed. Janessa was sure of that. But for now, she took a different kind of release from him. She went straight into his arms when he reached out for her.