Uncertain Future

by Eve Gaddy

  Tessa stared at the closed door, unable to believe what had just happened. “You wait, Ranger McClain,” she threatened, regaining her power of speech. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

  WILL HAD A MOMENTARY REGRET for pissing off the archaeologist so royally. Another time that strawberry-blond hair, pouty mouth and curvy little body might have interested him. But he wasn’t in Uncertain to find a woman, not unless that woman happened to be a murderer. Not about to be distracted, he promptly dismissed the redhead and turned his attention to Sheriff Logan Fielder. The old bastard hadn’t changed much.

  “Where do you get off . . .” Fielder began, striding around the desk as if he intended to throw a punch.

  Will almost wished he’d try it, except the resulting fight would just waste time and energy. “I’ve told you my orders, Sheriff. I’m here to investigate Frannie Granger’s murder. Accept it, and let’s get down to business.”

  “I can’t believe the punk I used to haul in to my jail is a Texas Ranger.”

  “Deal with it.” Will smiled, enjoying the older man’s anger. Knowing it would jerk his chain even more, he pulled up a chair and settled comfortably into it. “Fill me in.”

  Fielder’s jaw worked for a long moment. He shrugged, dropping his gaze, and sat back down. “There’s nothing to fill in. I’ve got a suspect, and it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be able to charge him.”

  “Who is the suspect?”

  His mouth stretched into a thin smile as his gaze met Will’s. “Lucky for us he’s right here in town. Someone you know, as a matter of fact.”

  Will simply looked at him, raising an eyebrow. No shock there. At the time of Frannie’s disappearance he’d known almost everyone in town.

  “Someone you knew real well. Jed Louis,” Fielder said with obvious relish. “He’s guilty as sin, and I expect to bring him in any day now.”

  Jed? What kind of crap was this? Will’s expression didn’t change, but inside he wanted to smash his fist into something—preferably Fielder’s face. Damn it, how much worse could things get?

  “Why?”

  Fielder smirked, holding up a hand to tick off reasons on his fingers. “Motive. Means. Opportunity.” He propped his forearms on the desk and added, “I’ve got him cold.”

  Will drew in a breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “I don’t believe Jed did it.”

  “That’s your problem, Ranger McClain. Even you won’t be able to deny the facts when you see them.”

  “Show me.”

  “I’ll get the records and the evidence together this afternoon. You’ll have them tomorrow.”

  “I’d better,” he said, observing with some satisfaction the smile fading from Fielder’s mouth.

  Great. What a homecoming. His foster brother was the prime suspect in the murder of their foster mother.

  Chapter Two

  WILL STRODE out of the sheriff’s office, anger fueling his steps. Damn it, how could Jed be the prime suspect? Will might not have seen Jed in nearly twenty years, but he remembered him well. And the boy he’d known couldn’t have killed Frannie.

  Not deliberately.

  Hand on his truck’s door handle, Will halted at the unwelcome thought. No, Jed wouldn’t have killed Frannie on purpose . . . but what about an accident?

  “Mr. McClain!” a voice with a Southern lilt demanded imperiously.

  The redhead, wearing a cool blue sleeveless dress, the kind that made a man grateful for the East Texas humidity, hurried across the parking lot toward him. “Mr. McClain, I want a word with you.”

  Theresa Lang, he thought. The archaeologist who’d discovered Frannie’s remains. Still ticked, obviously. “It’s Ranger McClain. And I’m in a hurry.” He meant to find Jed and hear what he had to say. See if he knew Fielder suspected him, though Will imagined he did. Subtle wasn’t Fielder’s middle name.

  “That’s just too bad. If you think you can brush me aside like some kind of insect, think again. I canceled my class because of you and I intend to discuss this matter now. I’ve been put off long enough.” She shoved him back with a surprisingly firm hand, and placed herself between him and the truck’s door. “We’re going to talk,” she said grimly. “Unless you mean to remove me by force.” Her chin angled up, thrust forward aggressively.

  Will hid a smile. She appeared even tinier in contrast to the huge black truck. Small but feisty, he thought. Might as well deal with her now. He probably needed more time to think matters through before he saw Jed anyway. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the front quarter panel of the truck, turning his head to give her his undivided attention. “What’s on your mind?”

  “My career.”

  Will waited but she didn’t say any more. “What about your career?”

  “You’re killing it. You and Sheriff Fielder.”

  “By not allowing you access to the murder site, I presume.”

  “That’s right.” She nodded sharply. “I have a grant. A time limit. If I’m not able to resume my dig soon, then my career is as good as over.”

  “That would prevent you from teaching?”

  She scowled. “I’m not a teacher.”

  “You said you canceled a class.’ I assumed that meant you were a teacher.”

  “It’s temporary.” She shrugged irritably. “I had to do something while I waited for that terminally slow sheriff to make up his mind.” Her blue eyes held a martial light, brightening and intensifying the color. “The point is, if I’m going to finish my thesis I need access to that site.”

  He found her earnestness appealing. Too bad he had to disappoint her. “Obviously this is important to you. I can respect that.”

  “Can you?” She lifted a regal eyebrow as if she didn’t believe any such thing. “Then let me back on that land.”

  Pretty, he thought. The summer sun glinted off her hair, red with hints of gold. Gorgeous eyes, sea-blue and haunting. Her skin looked as soft and creamy as a magnolia blossom, and the slight scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose gave her an added bit of character. Very pretty, but then he’d always been partial to redheads. She looked much better suited to lounging on a veranda, or better yet, in a dimly lit bedroom, than digging for fossils and broken pottery under the brutal East Texas sun.

  “Can’t do it,” he said regretfully. “Not yet.”

  “This is my entire career we’re talking about!” She smacked her fist against the truck door, wincing when it connected. “Not some minor matter you can dismiss like last week’s news.”

  “And what do you call murder?”

  “At the moment, I call it extremely frustrating.”

  Will smiled. “Yeah, I’ll agree to that.”

  “Isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind? I’ll be careful, I swear it. The sheriff’s had men out there for weeks now, going over everything. Surely he’s found all the evidence by now. And if I did find anything, anything at all relevant to your investigation, I’d turn it over immediately.” Eyes desperate, she added a final word. “Please.”

  Will shook his head. “Sorry. I’m trying to find a murderer and I can’t allow an archaeologist wanting to play around with clay pots to compromise the investigation.”

  She sucked in a breath, plainly struggling with her temper.

  He supposed he could have phrased that better, but he shrugged mentally. She might as well hear the truth now as later.

  “Burial mounds,” she corrected. “Caddo Indian burial mounds that are disintegrating as we speak.” She bit off each word, her eyes flashing fire. “Pots are only a small part of it. And I’m not playing.”

  He straightened and gazed down at her. “Neither am I, Ms. Lang. I’m talking murder.”

  “And I’m talking about my liveliho
od, my future, my career.”

  “Over one dig? Over a delay?”

  “A delay that means the artifacts and what’s left of the mounds themselves are being exposed to the elements. No one would let me shut down properly, they just threw me off the land. Any further delay means I won’t be able to finish my thesis. Over two years of work will have been for nothing.” She fisted her hands at her side. “Two years, for nothing.”

  He considered her thoughtfully. “It’s that important to you?”

  “Of course it is. Isn’t your career important to you?”

  Only the most important thing in his life. And finding Frannie’s murderer would be the best thing he’d ever done with that career. Still, Theresa Lang had a point, and a right to be upset at having her livelihood threatened. There might be a way to let her access at least some of the land in question. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically, shoving thick red hair back from her face in a quick, agitated gesture.

  He frowned. He’d listened to her, hadn’t he? What did she expect—instant gratification? He’d just gotten into town, for crying out loud. “Let me review the case and I’ll get back to you.”

  She sent him a scathing look. “I’ve heard that before. Weeks ago. From Sheriff Fielder.”

  “I’m not Fielder,” he said, not blaming her for her contempt of the sheriff. “I’ll be in touch in the next day or two.”

  “I won’t simply go away, you know. I’ll be back if you don’t contact me.”

  Having seen her and talked to her, he didn’t doubt that. “Don’t worry, Ms. Lang. I keep my word.”

  “You’d better, Ranger McClain.” She moved aside, allowing him to open his door.

  “Call me Will.” He flashed her a friendly smile, but he didn’t think it impressed her. “I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

  “I can hardly wait, Will,” she said, her sugar magnolia voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. “You can call me Tessa, as long as you call soon and with the right answer.” She spun on her heel and marched off, but even her angry stride couldn’t disguise the subtle swing of her hips.

  Will watched her go with a reluctant smile. He would do what he could to help her professionally. Partly because it was the right thing to do. But also because the earnest Tessa Lang intrigued him. He wouldn’t mind a bit getting to know her on a personal level.

  WILL FOUND OUT EASILY where Jed lived, simply by asking about him at the local convenience store. Nobody recognized Will, not surprising since he’d grown up and filled out a lot in the past nineteen years. But he remembered many of the locals. Especially ones like old Mrs. Whitney, who still owned the Kit and Caboodle Cottages. She would be glad to rent him a room, he suspected. He had a feeling this whole affair might take longer than he’d bargained on.

  A couple of miles south of Uncertain he pulled over to the side of the road and got out to see Jed’s place. Though Frannie’s land stood next door, the house well hidden, he deliberately didn’t look at it. There would be time enough later to deal with the memories that would bring.

  No, he preferred to focus on Jed. And the prime property he owned. Beaumarais, he called it. Impressive, Will admitted, taking in the stately white antebellum mansion and the beautifully manicured lawn surrounding it. The land that stretched for acres was just as carefully maintained, with a scattering of horses grazing in the fields. Percherons, Will thought, watching the enormous beasts with their beautiful foals. Jed had always liked the big breed.

  Built on a hill overlooking the town, the huge house stood two and half stories tall, with a red tile roof and narrow dormer windows. Massive chimneys flanked the house at either end, while a columned porch ran along the entire front. Whatever Jed had done with his life, he’d obviously succeeded in at least one aspect.

  Will had seen the place before, of course, always from a distance. He didn’t think it had been this well maintained in old Walter’s time. Jed had always referred to it as his future inheritance from his slime ball uncle. Will hadn’t quite believed it would happen. Looked like he’d been wrong.

  Will climbed back into his truck and drove slowly up the long driveway lined with flowering crepe myrtle in shades of pink, white and crimson. Nineteen years had passed since he’d last seen Jed and Emmy. He’d thought about searching for his foster siblings several times over the years. Something always stopped him.

  At first he’d been too busy trying to stay one step ahead of the system, not to mention just plain surviving, to look for anything beyond where his next meal was coming from. Later, after he became a cop, he could have attempted to find them. But he never had. He closed his eyes, knowing why. When he’d left Uncertain at seventeen, he’d closed the door on that part of his past. Frannie was gone, and with her, the only security, the only family he’d ever known. He’d made the decision to go on with his life. He figured Jed and Emmy had, too.

  Obviously, they hadn’t looked for him, either. And that bothered him. More than he wanted to admit.

  What if Jed didn’t recognize him? Or worse, had forgotten him? Maybe what had meant so much to him hadn’t meant all that much to either of the others. Could be he’d made too much of the bond he’d believed the three foster kids had shared.

  He got out of the truck and gazed at the front door. He wouldn’t put it off. He owed it to Frannie to find out the truth about her death, and that meant starting with Jed.

  He rang the doorbell and waited, resisting the urge to tug on his collar. He was grown now, not some lonely kid looking up to an older brother figure. Get a grip, McClain, he told himself. So what if he doesn’t remember you? You’ve lived through worse.

  A tidy black woman in a neat gray-and-white uniform answered the door. “Can I help you?”

  “Jed Louis, please.”

  “I’ll see if he’s available.” She surveyed him with shrewd, inquisitive eyes. “Can I tell him who’s calling?”

  “Tell him . . .” Will hesitated, decided to go for surprise. “Tell him it’s an old friend.”

  She inclined her head, then led him to a room off the main entryway. An anteroom, he supposed they called it, or maybe a parlor. Will glanced around, taking in the Victorian antiques scattered throughout the small room, the delicate, ornate peach couch with two fiddle back chairs beside it. A marble-topped table with a beautifully carved wooden base stood off to the side, holding a stained glass lamp and more doodads Will assumed were antiques. Cold and formal and nothing at all like the Jed he thought he’d known.

  He remembered the day so clearly. A couple of months after Frannie had dragged him home with her, he’d been suspended from school. No surprise, he’d been fighting again. But that time had been different. Because that time he hadn’t fought alone. Jed had stood with him, and gained a black eye and bloody nose for his trouble. And Will knew right then he’d found a true brother.

  A brother who now stood one step away from being formally charged with murder.

  Will was still deciding if he dared sit on the couch or if he’d do better in one of the chairs when he heard footsteps come to a halt behind him. He turned around slowly to see a tall, lanky, black-haired man in stone-washed jeans and a black T-shirt standing in the doorway. Neither spoke a word as they stared at each other.

  Jed’s puzzled expression gave way to a wide smile. “Will? My God, it is you.” In a flash he was across the room and had enveloped Will in a hearty bear hug. They pounded each other’s backs and asked each other questions neither heard. The rush of emotion shocked him, seemed almost alien to him. Will didn’t consider himself an emotional man. Given his life, and his profession, he couldn’t afford to be. It had been a long time since he’d let himself care for anyone the way he had for Jed and Emmy. And Frannie.

  Finally Jed drew back, and said, “I can’t believe y
ou’re here. Emmy and I have been wishing—”

  “Emmy?” Will interrupted. “Emmy’s here, too? In Uncertain?”

  Jed nodded, his eyes brightening again. “Yes. Not at this exact moment, though. She’s on her honeymoon. She married Riley, just a few days ago.”

  “Riley Gray Wolf?” Riley had been a friend of Will’s, as well as being sweet on Emmy. “So, he and Emmy got together after all.” Frannie, he remembered, swallowing a chuckle, hadn’t approved of that relationship. She’d thought Emmy way too young to be serious about anyone. Especially Riley.

  “Yes, they sure did. He went by Riley Gray for a long time, but he changed it back to Gray Wolf just recently.”

  “Hard to believe.” Will shook his head. “Riley and little Emmy, married.”

  “She’s all grown-up now,” Jed said with a smile. “I married a little while ago, too. Gwyn’s gone out but she’ll be back soon. I want you to stay to meet her.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Will said, wondering what sort of woman Jed had married. Maybe she was the one who liked all the fancy junk, because he still didn’t think it suited Jed. “Some digs you’ve got here. I guess the inheritance from the rich uncle came through after all.”

  “Only out of necessity. There wasn’t anyone else he could leave it to,” Jed replied, frowning.

  Will gestured at the room. “Still. You’ve prospered.”

  “I’ve been fortunate. Life’s treated me well.”

  Yeah, unless he ended up charged with murder, Will thought. “I always knew you’d make it. You were primed to succeed.”

  He shrugged it off. “Let’s go in the library, where it’s comfortable.”

  Relieved, Will grinned. “I didn’t think this was your type of room.”

  Jed shook his head ruefully as they walked down the hall. “June always puts people she’s not sure about in there.” He cut Will a sideways glance and smiled. “She must think you’re a suspicious character. She says the anteroom intimidates those up to no good.”