Where There's Smoke

by Sandra Brown

  “Have you been following the story of the little girl from Eden Pass who almost lost her arm?”

  “I heard she died.”

  “Yes. Her funeral was today. Such a tragedy.” She paused. “The doctor who treated her for shock and took her to Tyler—”

  “Dr. Mallory.”

  “Yes. Well, she… she called just now. See, she was once… my older brother was…”

  “I know.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Then you can imagine how embarrassing and uncomfortable it’s been for us to have her here in Eden Pass.”

  “How come?”

  The question was totally unexpected, and for a moment she was taken aback. “Because she brings back such bad memories for us.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, so she felt compelled to explain. “Lara Porter ruined Clark’s political career.”

  Bowie cocked his head to one side and lightly scratched his neck as though ruminating on her point. “She’s not a husky old gal by any stretch. I don’t figure she could wrestle him down, strip him naked, and force him into bed with her, do you?”

  This wasn’t the first time Janellen had considered that, but only privately. If she had verbalized her thoughts, Jody would have gone through the roof.

  Prudently Janellen avoided further discussion in that direction. “Somehow the media found out that Lara Porter is in Eden Pass, passing herself off as Dr. Mallory. Apparently she was accosted by reporters at Letty Leonard’s funeral this morning and had to call Sheriff Baxter to disperse those who’ve besieged her clinic.”

  Bowie smacked his lips with disgust. “Imagine them disrupting that little girl’s funeral like that.”

  “I know. It was ghastly of them.” For a moment she reflected on the continuing turbulence caused by her brother’s affair with Lara Mallory Porter. “It’s believed that the Leonards are going to file a medical malpractice suit against her,” she told Bowie, then paused to take a deep breath. “She thinks my mother is responsible.”

  “Is she?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t sound too sure.”

  Her fingertips brushed her lips once before moving to her blouse. It didn’t have buttons, so she fiddled with the fabric, then nervously laid her hand on the table near her untouched cup of tea.

  “I don’t know if she is or not,” she admitted at last. “Dr. Mallory called to speak to her. Maydale told her that Mama was resting. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and demanded to speak to whoever was available.” She fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. “I wish Key had been here. He’s a pro when it comes to confrontation. He would have known what to say to her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I’m sure our family didn’t cause her recent hardships.”

  “Think she bought that?” Bowie asked skeptically.

  “She said she doubts that I would be that spiteful, but that she wouldn’t put anything past my mother or my brother.” In a small voice she added, “I’d hate to think they could be that cruel.”

  She stared into space for a moment, then returned her attention to her guest. “I’m sorry, Bowie. I didn’t mean to take up your time with my family’s problems. What did you need to see me about?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “It’s probably nothing. In fact, I tried for several days to talk myself out of bothering you with it.” He had set his hat on the table. Now he scooted it aside and leaned forward. “You ever notice anything peculiar about well number seven?”

  “No, should I?”

  “Probably not, but I figured I had to get it off my chest. See, it’s not yielding as much natural gas as it should. At least, that’s my opinion. Its production doesn’t jive with comparable wells.”

  “All wells are different.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I know that. They have personalities and they’re constantly changing. Kinda like women. Each well has its quirks and you’ve got to get to know it real good. Stroke it every now and then.”

  Janellen ducked her head so quickly that she didn’t see that Bowie ducked his, too. Her cheeks turned warm, but since this concerned business, she felt it was imperative to keep the conversation going.

  “What’s the daily MCF?” Gas was measured in hundreds of thousands of cubic feet.

  “Two fifty per day. I figure that well’s output ought to be higher.”

  “We allow for a four to five percent loss, Bowie. Even up to ten. There’s probably a small leak somewhere in the line and the gas is being absorbed into the atmosphere.”

  He gnawed his cheek for a moment, then shook his head stubbornly. “I think the loss is higher than the allowance. After recording that well for the last several weeks, I think it should be a high gas producer, especially considering the oil we get out of it. Instead, it’s one of our lowest.”

  “You’ve spent a lot of time studying it.”

  “On my own time.”

  Her heart swelled with pride. He was a conscientious employee who did more than was required. Her decision to hire him had been justified.

  Even though she appreciated his concern, she felt it was misplaced. “I don’t know what to tell you, Bowie. Well number seven produces as we’ve come to expect from it.”

  “Well, I reported it to the foreman, but he just shrugged it off and said its rate of flow has always been low, long as he can remember. Damned if I can figure out why, though. Just one of those worries that grabs hold and won’t let go, you know?”

  “Yes, I know.” She stared into her cup of tea. After a long moment of silence, she raised her head. “There I go again. I can’t keep my mind on business. I keep dwelling on that little girl’s family. Her daddy does all our dry cleaning. He’s a nice, friendly man. I know how devastated he and his wife are, because we felt the same way when Clark drowned. I thought we’d have to bury my mother with him.”

  “I never had a kid, but if I did, I can’t imagine having to put him in the ground.”

  Janellen looked at him searchingly. He’d never had a child, but she wondered if he’d ever been married. There were a thousand personal questions she wished to ask him, but couldn’t bring herself to. Among those questions was where he had acquired his insight into people. He had an uncanny knack for seeing beyond affectations and straight into the heart and mind of an individual.

  Trusting his instincts, she asked, “Bowie, do you think Dr. Mallory did something that caused that little girl to die?”

  “All I know about medicine is that there’s no real cure for either a cold or a hangover.”

  She smiled. “I’ve only seen Lara Mallory in person once, but she looked so… so… put together.”

  Everything that I’m not, she thought dismally. Having seen Lara Mallory, she was no longer surprised that Clark had risked everything to be with her. She wasn’t merely beautiful. Her eyes reflected compassion and intelligence, and she exuded self-confidence and competency.

  Janellen wanted to despise her. She knew that she wouldn’t be feeling this ambiguity if Dr. Mallory had come across as an empty-headed sexpot, all fluff and no substance. Instead, it was quite the opposite.

  “I don’t believe the woman I met could be negligent.” Her conviction surprised even herself and made her feel disloyal. “I know I’m supposed to hate her, but…”

  “Who says?”

  “My mother.”

  “Do you always do what your mother says? Don’t you ever think different from her?”

  “Rarely.” The admission made her sound like a wimp. She was probably sacrificing any respect Bowie had for her as an individual and as an employer.

  But Lara Mallory’s call had upset her terribly. She was past the point of trying to hide her feelings. Propping her elbow on the table, she rested her forehead on her hand. “Oh, God, I wish her affair with Clark had never taken place. He would have enjoyed a successful political career like Mama wanted for him. He even might still be alive. Mama would be happy. And I—”


  She caught herself before saying that if events had been different, she wouldn’t feel so responsible for holding things together now. Seeing to everyone’s happiness and well-being was exhausting. It was also impossible.

  Ever since the night that girl had come to the door asking for Key, he’d been even more irascible than before. He and Jody hadn’t quarreled any more, but that was because each went out of his way to avoid the other. Key answered direct questions in gruff monosyllables. He was preoccupied with only God knew what, and Janellen didn’t dare guess. He stamped through the house with his shoulders angrily hunched, his expression belligerent. He was so unhappy at home that he often left as abruptly as he had appeared.

  Now, Lara Mallory had just burdened her with a new source of worry. Before she realized that she was crying, a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Hey, what’s this?”

  She sensed the movement of Bowie’s arm, but she didn’t expect him to touch her. When she felt his callused fingertips against her cheek, she raised her head and looked at him, her lips parting in stunned bewilderment.

  She was rarely touched by anyone, and, because she was starved for the touch of another, she reflexively raised her hand and folded it around his.

  He went incredibly still. Nothing moved except his eyes. They went from hers, to her hand covering his, then back to her eyes. Janellen sat just as still as he, but inside she was all aflutter. Her lower body felt feverish, full, heavy. Her breasts tingled and tightened, making her want to press her palms over them to contain the rush of excitement.

  How long they remained staring at each other she never knew. She was held in thrall by Bowie’s sad, sweet eyes and the pressure of his fingertips, which were damp with her tears. If he hadn’t heard Key’s car approaching, she might still have been frozen in that tableau when her brother slammed in.

  As it was, she hastily shot to her feet and whirled around to greet him. “Key! Hi!” Her voice was unnaturally high and thin. “What are you doing here?”

  “When I left this morning I still lived here.” He divided an inquisitive look between her and Bowie, who she hoped could conceal guilt better than she. Her face was fiery hot. She knew she must be flushed from her throat, where her pulse was pounding, up to her hairline.

  Key took a beer from the refrigerator. “Hi, Bowie. Want a beer?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Janellen said, “I already offered him one, but he wanted lemonade instead.”

  “I just stopped by to tell Miss Janellen that—”

  “He thinks the MCF on well number seven is low and—”

  “It’s probably nothing, but—”

  “He thought we ought to know in case—”

  “So I brought it up with Miss Janellen and—”

  “And that’s what we’ve been doing. Talking about that,” she finished lamely.

  “Uh-huh.” Looking amused, Key popped open the beer and tilted it toward his mouth. “Well, don’t let me interrupt this high-level business conference.”

  “No, it’s all right.” Bowie snatched up his hat as though it were a piece of incriminating evidence. “I was just on my way out.”

  “Yes, he was about to leave when you came in. I’ll… I’ll just walk him to the door now.” Flustered and unable to look at either her brother or Bowie, she fled the kitchen and was waiting for Bowie in the entry, holding the front door open for him. She kept her eyes averted as he joined her there. “Thank you for the information, Bowie.”

  He pulled on his hat. “Just figured it ought to be brought to your attention. It’s your money.”

  “I’ll check into it.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  At the sound of her brother’s voice, she swung around. His shoulder was propped against the arched opening of the dining room as he nonchalantly sipped his beer.

  “What’s not such a good idea?” she asked.

  “You checking into a malfunctioning well.”

  “Why not?”

  “As of today, the Tacketts are in the news again.”

  “So?”

  “So reporters are going to be crawling over Eden Pass like ants on a picnic ham. Until a hotter story comes along, that is. When they don’t get anything out of me—and they won’t—they’re likely to come sniffing after you for a statement. Bowie,” he said, looking at the pumper, “keep an eye out for her, okay? If she inspects any oil wells, you go with her.”

  Bowie glanced uneasily at Janellen. “Meaning no disrespect, Mr. Tackett, but she’s the boss.”

  “Boss or not, do it as a favor to me. I’m asking as her brother.”

  Again Bowie’s eyes darted toward Janellen. She was fuming and didn’t trust herself to speak. With uncertainty, Bowie said, “Okay, Mr. Tackett.”

  “Call me Key.”

  “Yes, sir. Well, ’bye, y’all.”

  He wasted no time in getting to the company truck and driving away. In fact, he looked grateful to be escaping with his hide intact.

  Janellen rounded on her brother. “I don’t need a keeper!”

  “Well, I do,” he replied, unfazed by her anger. “If a reporter pesters you, I’ll go after him wanting to kick ass. That’ll create more news and make a bad situation worse.”

  She resented his taking charge of her employee, of making it appear that she was incapable of taking care of herself. But his explanation was well founded. If a reporter did ambush her demanding a statement, and Key found out about it, there was no telling what he’d do. Once, when she was in high school, she’d come home from a date in tears. Key had almost throttled her terrified escort before she could explain that they’d just seen a sad movie.

  Knowing that he was looking out for her best interests, she let her anger subside. “The situation is already worse than you know,” she told him. “Lara Mallory called here a while ago wanting to talk to Mama. Dr. Mallory thinks she tipped the media about her being here in Eden Pass.”

  Key ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Well I’ll be damned.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “No. What surprises me is that the doctor and I are beginning to think alike. I also figured Jody was at the bottom of this. I know plenty of smart reporters, but no more than a handful of them knew Lara was involved in the Leonard girl’s case; it would have been a bizarre coincidence if one of them had added two and two and come up with four.” He looked toward the second story of the house. “Shrewd old bitch.”

  “Don’t talk like that about our mother.”

  “I meant it as a compliment. You’ve got to give her credit for creative thinking.”

  “Was it so creative?”

  “Meaning?”

  Worriedly, she said, “You were there, Key. You saw everything. Was Dr. Mallory negligent? Do the Leonards have grounds for a malpractice suit?”

  “I was concentrating on flying the chopper, but from what I saw, Lara fought like hell to save the kid’s life. According to the autopsy report, that embolism was a freak of nature. Could have happened anytime. And another thing—the Leonards didn’t seem the kind of people who’d be vengeful. They’re faithful Christians.”

  “So it surprises you that they’re looking for a scapegoat?”

  “Right. I wouldn’t put it past Jody to circulate a rumor of a malpractice suit, whether or not there’s any truth to it. Lara’s an easy target.” Janellen looked at him quizzically. “What?” he asked.

  “Several times you’ve referred to her as Lara. It sounds odd.”

  He hesitated, then said querulously, “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

  Janellen had too many other pressing matters on her mind to pursue something so trivial. “She sounded awfully mad, Key. She said to tell Mama and you that she wouldn’t be driven out of town like she was before. What did she mean?”

  “She’s referring to when she and Randall Porter went to Montesangre.” He frowned. “She’s got it into her head that Clark engineered the
appointment for Porter by flexing some muscle in the State Department. His appointment looked and sounded good, but it was practically legalized banishment.”

  Janellen was stunned. “Do you believe her? Could Clark have been that devious?”

  “Devious is a strong word, but our big brother was fairly adept at weaseling his way out of trouble.”

  “He never really got out of this trouble, though, did he?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Key said slowly. “And as long as Lara’s around to remind everybody of it, he never will.”

  “So you agree with what Mama did. If she did.”

  “No. I want Lara Mallory out of Eden Pass, but I want her to hang herself. Left alone, I think she eventually will.” Once again he glanced upstairs. “But you know Jody. She’s never been one to let things follow their natural course. If things aren’t moving along according to her plan and her timetable, she plays God.”

  “Please don’t be critical, Key. She’s sick. Can’t you try and talk her into seeing a doctor?”

  He barked a laugh. “That’d be a surefire way to guarantee that she wouldn’t. But I agree. She should have a complete checkup, have some tests run.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “But I’m afraid that persuading her to do it is up to you, sis. Stay after her.” He squeezed her shoulder, then headed for the stairs, taking his beer with him.

  “Are you going out tonight, Key?”

  “As soon as I shower.”

  “Are you going out with Helen Berry?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned. “Why do you ask that?”

  Gauging by his expression, Janellen knew she’d struck a nerve. She also realized why people were sometimes afraid of him. “Helen’s been going steady with Jimmy Bradley since they were freshmen. The gossip is that…” she paused to wet her lips, “that Helen recently broke up with him, very sudden.”

  “So?”

  “Oh, Key.” Taking hold of her courage by both hands, she asked, “Why? Why, when there are so many other women for you to choose from, would you pick her? Helen’s half your age.”

  “Careful, Janellen. If you start digging into my personal affairs, I’ll have to start digging into yours.” He moved down two steps and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “For instance, I might ask what’s going on between you and Bowie Cato.”