His nostrils flared. “Consider me involved.” Gripping her shoulders, Dax nudged her a step back, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me.” His gaze flicked up and down her body, and he blew out a breath. “First, put your clothes on. I won’t be able to concentrate otherwise.”
She gathered her things and slipped into her underwear. “It’s about my money,” she started as she shimmied into her shorts.
“You mean that obscenely large amount of cash you had in your bag?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I knew there was a story behind that.”
“It is mine.” Her words were muffled behind her shirt. Her head popped through the neck opening, and she tugged her hair free. “There’s an art dealer back in New Orleans. He said he could only sell my work for basically what I paid for art supplies. I waited two years, hoping for a breakthrough at his gallery. But I found out he was lying.”
Dax swiped his shirt from the ground and shook it out. “He was ripping you off?”
She nodded. “I’d picked up my cash from the latest painting he’d sold, for peanuts, but realized I didn’t have my cell phone before I left his gallery. I went back to his office and overheard him laughing with one of his lackeys about what an idiot I was. How even my smallest pieces sold for a couple of thousand. There was a huge stack of cash on his desk he was counting and putting in a big duffel bag.”
“And you immediately left and went to the police.” Dax closed his eyes. “Please tell me that’s what you did.”
Lissa huffed. “Of course not. How long would it have taken before I saw my money? If I saw my money.” She shook her head. “I hid behind some boxes until he went to the bathroom. Then I snuck into his office and took what I was owed. I’d calculated in my head what I was due, give or take a couple thousand.”
Her heart burned, and she dug a knuckle between her breasts. “I thought I was being paid so little because I didn’t have the talent to cut it in the art world. He kept telling me there were some restaurants who liked my art well enough to hang in their bathrooms, but I wasn’t drawing any real interest.”
“Of course you have what it takes.” Stepping close, he ran his hands up and down her arms. “That isn’t even a question. But taking his money—”
“My money,” she reminded Dax. “And besides, my share was only a small amount of what I took out of that duffel. I’m surprised he even noticed it was gone.”
“You had quite a bit of cash in your bag.” Dax’s eyebrows drew together.
“Fifty-six thousand.” The pleasure of discovering she’d actually made that kind of money as an artist had almost quieted her nerves as she’d filled her backpack with the cash from the duffel.
“Why would an art dealer have that much cash lying around? Don’t most people pay by credit card?”
Lissa pursed her lips. “I guess. But all the bills of sale he showed me for my work showed people paying cash.” The dummied bills of sale. God, she had been an idiot. It had been as easy to fool her as printing out an edited document.
Taking her hand, Dax led her to the side of the little beach and stepped on the thin rim of rocks that led past the waterfall. His foot slipped, and he sighed. “It’s too narrow. We’re going to have to get wet again,” he muttered. But without any further complaint, he stepped into the pool, landing waist deep. He reached for her, taking her hand, and she jumped in beside him.
“Cash makes it easy to cheat on your taxes.” Dax sidled past the waterfall. “That could be his game.”
Stepping out of the grotto, she raised her face to the sun. The slanting beams heated her skin, a soothing warmth after the chill of the grotto. “That’s probably it. Morris let slip that the feds were sniffing around him. He probably meant the IRS.”
“When did you talk to him?” Dax asked, his voice sharp.
“He called me when we were in Memphis.” Placing her hand on the top of a boulder, she tried to climb the side but slid back into the water with a splash.
Dax wrapped his hands around her waist and hefted her up.
She reached for the top of the rock. “And he called again yesterday. Said his men would find me.”
Dax paused, leaving her scrambling for purchase. “I’m sorry, what? This man threatened you?”
She dug her fingers into a crack in the granite, straining her arms to pull herself up. Dax got the point and pushed her the rest of the way to the top. She reached for his hand and helped pull him up next to her. “I wouldn’t say threaten per se.” Morris couldn’t have been serious about the broken bones. She’d known him for two years. He might be a lying, cheating skunk, but he wouldn’t actually hurt her. She tapped her fingers against her thigh. Right? “But it wasn’t exactly friendly.”
Lissa’s chest deflated. She needed to admit it to herself. She didn’t know the man at all. “Which is why I need to leave. I’m spending so much time with you, if they find me, and you’re there …”
Dax cursed and spun around to face the canyon wall. Planting his hands on his hips, he stood, unspeaking, as his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.
“Dax?” She placed a hand on his lower back and stepped next to him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be gone tomorrow and you’ll be out of it.”
He twisted to face her, his eyes flaring wide. “You think I’m worried about me? That I’m visualizing my hands wrapped around this man’s throat because I’m worried that I might get caught in the middle?”
“Uh, judging by your tone, I’m guessing that’s a no.”
“You’re damn right that’s a no,” he growled.
Barks echoed off the rock walls. Lissa glanced up, shielding her eyes. William stood at the edge by the mouth of the waterfall. “We’ll be there soon, boy,” she called up.
Dax gripped her shoulder. “This problem isn’t going to go away just because you move to New Mexico. Unless that school has armed turrets on its walls, it’s no protection.”
She tilted her head. “There actually is a big wall around the campus. It was a former convent …” She caught his look and drew a line in the dirt with her toes. “And that’s not the point.” She hooked her fingers in the waist of his pants and tugged him an inch closer. “I’ll be fine, Dax. Morris thinks he can scare me into giving him my money with a couple of empty threats. He won’t send anyone after me to New Mexico. He’ll forget about me in a couple of weeks.”
Dax’s jaw jutted mulishly. “If it’s an empty threat, you can stay here until school starts. With me.”
That would be so, so nice. It was what she wanted, but a little niggle of worry remained. “I don’t know …”
“I do.” Taking her elbow, he strode to a stone outcropping about hip’s height from the canyon wall. He tested its stability, then planted a hand on it and hopped up. Taking her hand, he pulled her up beside him. “You’ll stay with me while you’re in Pineville. We’ll have fun, and you’ll be safe. It’s a win-win.” He reached up the canyon wall, dug his fingers into a crack, and swung onto another rock a couple of feet away.
Lissa watched in awe as his body seemed to flow from one perch to another. He was a part of nature, one with it, his movements beautiful in their economy and ease.
Living at his house for the next couple of weeks would be no hardship. Watching him work, walking William together, sleeping next to him, laughing with him. Helping him shower after a hard day on the trails …
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. A girl shouldn’t turn her back on such good fortune when it lands in her lap. And really, what were the odds that the Tweedles would ever find her in Pineville? She’d ditched her latest phone and wouldn’t call her parents until she left.
“Okay,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” She grinned impishly. “It will be better for William not to be in a one-parent household. A separation can be hard on the kid
s.”
Relief washed over Dax’s face. He reached across the gap for her hand, urging her to hop to the rock he stood on.
“One question?” she asked.
“I’ll make William sleep on the couch.” He curled a lock of her hair around his finger. “You’ll always get the bed.”
She rocked onto her toes. “Good to know, but that wasn’t my question.” She swept her hand around the walls of the canyon. “Where are you going?”
He turned her to face the wall and curled his body around hers, curving his front against her back. He lowered his cheek to rest against the side of her face and pointed out his route. “To that rock, then to that ledge, and onto that little path right there. That will get us out.”
She leaned back into him. “You’ve done this before?”
“First time. How were you planning on getting out of here?”
That was her problem. She never planned. And she’d done okay in life jumping first and figuring out her next step later. So far. But maybe a little plotting wouldn’t have gone amiss before leaping off a cliff. “Swim downstream until we could hike out?”
He shook his head, his jaw scraping against hers. “Would have taken hours. Aren’t you glad you have me around now?” Stepping around her, he crawled along the canyon wall like Spider-Man and dropped to his next rock.
She salivated. Yes. Yes, she was glad.
Of all the vans she could have snuck in to, hopping into Dax’s was probably the best thing ever to happen to her. He turned and stretched out a hand, a sexy smile dancing over his lips. He looked so confident, so steady, she started to believe that maybe they could make this work. That her troubles from New Orleans wouldn’t touch them. That the crazy idea of trying to continue whatever this was when she went to Santa Fe wasn’t so crazy after all.
And, without a moment’s hesitation, she leaped for the rock, knowing Dax would be there to catch her.
Chapter 16
Bouncing his foot on the ground, Dax checked his watch. His butt was starting to go numb. He’d been waiting on the metal bench in front of the courthouse for close to an hour now. The judge had to be leaving for lunch sometime soon. Sessions started again at one thirty. Dax knew the schedule all too well.
He stared at the double doors of the two-story brick building, willing the older man to emerge. Dax really didn’t want to go inside. Security would confiscate his pocketknife. They’d make William stay outside alone. And the place held bad memories for him.
And he didn’t want any bad memories battling with the good ones from that weekend. Extremely good ones. Moving Lissa’s things to his apartment had been simple. Aside from some painting supplies, she traveled light. Something that, as a backpacker, Dax could appreciate. They’d spent the weekend lounging on his couch watching TV, walking William, eating takeout Chinese … and burning up the sheets of his bed. It was amazing how well they clicked, and Dax didn’t just mean sexually. They were virtually living together, and everything about them just seemed to fall into place. Being with Lissa was easy and fun and he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do when she left.
But when she did leave, he needed to make sure she would be okay. He tilted his head, considering the building. The judge’s chambers were on the second floor, near the rear. If he were to attempt the climb, that drain pipe would make a great handhold. He mapped the path he could take to climb to the judge’s window. Of course he wouldn’t do it, but plotting a hypothetical trajectory helped to pass the time. When he’d climbed the courthouse before, he’d made good use of the thick ropes of ivy that clung to the walls.
Dax rolled his head. Christ, he could have climbed into the judge’s chambers ten times over by now. The man had to eat, didn’t he? Unless he’d brought in his lunch today.
He sucked in a deep breath, preparing to let it out in a heavy sigh, but William beat him to it. The dog rolled onto his other side by Dax’s feet and huffed. Annoyed at the wait, no doubt. William was better about not attempting an escape every two seconds. The new extendable leash Dax had bought for him probably helped. Now, whenever William wanted, he could investigate every bush, person, or blade of grass within a twenty-six-foot perimeter, leaving his stationary human companions behind.
But the dog had explored everything possible within reach of the bench on the front lawn of the courthouse. Now he was bored, just like Dax.
“I’ll take you for a trail run tonight,” Dax told the Bluetick. “I promise.”
William’s eyebrows twitched, but he avoided comment.
Judge Nichols appeared in the doorway, a black windbreaker tossed over one arm and a paper lunch sack clutched in his other hand. He stood on the top of the courthouse steps and breathed deeply, a smile spreading across his face.
He hopped down the steps, as energetic as a pup. His blue eyes lit up when he caught sight of Dax.
Standing, Dax shifted from one foot to the other. He wiped his palm on his pants. “Come on, William. Let’s go say hi to the judge.”
“Dax! What are you doing here?” A breeze flipped a lock of Judge Nichols snowy-white hair up into the air. “Didn’t my assistant email you my letter for the bank?”
“Yes, I got it. Thanks again.” Dax reached out his hand and shook the judge’s. “I really appreciate it.”
“Did you get the loan?”
“I don’t know yet, but my chances have definitely improved because of you.” Dax cleared his throat. “That’s not why I’m here, though. Do you have a moment to talk? I know you usually eat lunch in the park, and I’m happy to walk over there with you. If I won’t be a bother.”
“No bother.” Judge Nichols bent and rubbed William’s side. “I’d be delighted.”
Dax reeled in the leash so William couldn’t run into the street, and he and the judge strolled toward the center of Pineville.
“So, what can I do for you today?” Nichols asked. “I talked with Brad recently. Your probation’s ending soon and you won’t be required to work at the shelter, but he’s hoping you’ll have a couple of hours to spare. You’ve been a great asset to Forever Friends.”
“I like working there.” William chased after a squirrel, and Dax pulled him back before a homicide could be committed. “I’m sure I’ll have some extra time to spend there.” It wouldn’t be nearly as much time as he put in now, not if he bought Off-Road Adventures. But he did like working with the dogs. He’d miss his time with them. And with Brad and Gabe.
But he had other problems to deal with first. “I, uh, have a couple of legal questions I was hoping you could answer, for … for a book I’m thinking about writing.” Dax winced. That sounded lame. No one would believe he would be writing a book. But if he said it was for a friend, the judge would suspect the questions were about Lissa. She was new to town and would be the obvious suspect. Brad and Gabe sure as heck wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.
The judge pursed his lips. “All right. Are you writing a mystery?”
“Maybe. It’s just an idea I have.” They crossed the street and walked through a break in a hedge to enter the park. “If someone took something that was in someone else’s possession, but it was theirs to start with, is that considered theft?”
Nichols stopped dead. His usually cheerful face drew tight. “What have you got yourself into, son?”
“Nothing! I swear. This isn’t about me.”
“Hmph.” Slowly, the judge turned and headed for a picnic table under the shade of a large bay tree. “Well, if we’re speaking purely theoretically here”—he dropped his chin and gave Dax a look—“the actual act of repossessing one’s own property isn’t theft.”
Dax’s shoulders sagged. Lissa hadn’t broken the law.
“However, said person could be charged with breaking and entering, trespassing, and vandalism if any property was damaged during the retrieval. And that’s assuming he can prove the proper
ty was actually his to start with. Were any weapons involved?”
“What? No!”
The judge hmphed again. He scooted onto the bench and opened his lunch bag, peering inside. “So, this hypothetical scenario is just your character going into someone’s house and reclaiming his property?”
Dax straddled the bench across from Nichols. “Something like that.”
The judge bit into a peanut butter sandwich and stared at him while he chewed. He patted his mouth with a paper napkin. “Putting aside whether or not your character would be guilty of a crime, there’s always the chance that a prosecutor would charge him regardless, hoping something might stick. I would strongly advise anyone against such a course of action. If someone has your property, go to the police.”
“Right. Of course.” William peered over the picnic table, eyeing the judge’s sandwich, and Dax dragged him back to his side. He pointed at the ground by Dax’s feet and, to his great surprise, the dog lay down. “Can you tell me what the penalties are for tax evasion?” Maybe if Lissa went to the IRS, told them what she’d heard and seen, that scummy art dealer could get thrown behind bars.
Judge Nichols dropped his sandwich and crossed his arms over his round belly. “Dax Cannon, I don’t like where this is going.”
“I swear, this isn’t—”
“Doggy!” A pudgy toddler pulled on his mother’s hand, pointing at William. The Bluetick thumped his tail in response.
The mother adjusted a large bag on one shoulder and swung her son up onto her hip. “Yes, he’s a very cute doggy, isn’t he?’
The boy clapped his hands. “Doggy!”
Dax frowned, not liking the look in the kid’s eye. Dax recognized a tail-puller when he saw one.
The judge waved. “Hi, Janice. How are you and Mattie today?”
“Good. You know, Fred and I have talked about getting a dog.” She nodded at William. “What kind of dog is that? He’s adorable.”
The judge’s eyes lit up. “This here is a Bluetick Coonhound, isn’t that right, Dax?”
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