Promise Her

by Mitzi Pool Bridges

  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to figure out why his feelings were changing. She was beautiful and talented. But he had always known that. Had Lisa grown up and he was just now noticing?

  Wouldn’t that be normal even for a brother?

  Thirty minutes later, he still had no answer. When she climbed in to sit beside him, he thought he’d never seen her so beautiful.

  He cleared his throat. “Coffee?”

  “There’s a grocery store about a mile up the road. They have a Starbucks coffee bar.

  “I know that one,” he said as he backed out and turned around.

  “I talked to Mom.”

  “I heard from her this morning myself. She’s worried, told me to take care of this nonsense.”

  “I tried to convince her it was just a misunderstanding.”

  “You know Mom’s a worrier.”

  Of course she did. Why couldn’t he seem to get his footing? Conversation, especially with women, had never been a problem. Now he felt tongue-tied. Something was definitely wrong. Though the morning was cool, he felt perspiration on his forehead. Not normal at all.

  Within minutes, they were seated at a small table for two, sipping hot coffee.

  “The family’s upset and worried, Lisa.” That was putting it mildly; they were hounding him to get this over with. Now.

  “You spent ten bucks on coffee to tell me that?”

  Brilliant move. His mouth grew dry as he struggled to think of why he wanted to see her this morning. “They don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Hurt? The only way I’ll get hurt is if this goes any further. I’ve told everyone who will listen that Harold’s behind this. But I’m being ignored.”

  “Not by everyone.” He paused. “Some think you’re out to get Harold Wheatley.”

  “For what reason?” Her voice raised a couple of notches. “That makes me look more guilty!”

  He took her clenched hand, turned it over, smoothed out her fingers and fought the temptation to bring her perfectly manicured fingers to his lips in a manner that wouldn’t be deemed brotherly. “You couldn’t hurt anyone, Lisa. Anyone who knows you knows that.”

  She eased her hand from his.

  “Are you telling me in your nice, friendly way that HPD is going to continue looking in my direction?”

  He took a sip of coffee to give himself time to get his feelings and his thoughts under control. “Looks that way. Darin says he’s talked to the police chief this morning. Because of your connection to the Callahans, they’re not listening to him.”

  “How stupid is that? They’re letting Harold get away with murder.”

  “I wish I knew the problem. But they tell me there’s no evidence that points to him.”

  “What about Tempest’s trust and the missing money?”

  “They say that every withdrawal has her signature, that she withdrew the money herself.” He leaned across the table, looked into those deep blue eyes. “Lisa, could Tempest have lied to you?”

  “No. And I can’t believe you asked. Do you think I don’t know my job? I can read people better than that. Can’t you tell when a client is lying to you?” She paused a minute. “Are you sure the signatures aren’t forged?”

  “I’m sure. Tempest came in and made the withdrawals herself. At least that’s the story.”

  Lisa shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Not for a minute. If she made the withdrawals herself it would be too easy to prove.”

  Douglas shrugged. “Maybe she had some kind of agenda you knew nothing about.”

  Lisa wasn’t buying it. She may not have known Tempest long, but she was a good judge of character. Tempest hadn’t lied, at least not to her. “Tempest told me everything she knew. Is there any way you can get a copy of the withdrawals? If the cops won’t do their jobs, then we’ll do it for them. I’ll mention it to Max. He has Bernie working almost full time on this. If anyone can get their hands on information, he can.”

  “Yeah. I know Bernie’s reputation,” Douglas said.

  I’m the trained investigator. I’ll spend every minute of every day on the computer to get what I need.

  She looked over at Douglas, felt that familiar wave of longing wash over her. He was more handsome than usual this morning. Instead of his lawyer suit and tie, he wore a pair of tan slacks and matching jacket, a cream-colored golf shirt and boots. His green eyes glowed with purpose.

  The Callahans had rallied around her. And she was grateful. Except she wanted more than a brother’s concern from Douglas. But Douglas treated her with the same affection he gave his sister.

  “I’ll lose my job if this continues,” she said.

  “Max would never fire you.”

  “Max would have no choice. Every employee has to pass a barrage of tests, including a background check. How could AAF keep clients if I stay on the payroll while I’m charged with Tempest’s murder?”

  His face paled.

  Was he thinking about her losing her job? Or about how this would affect his real sister’s fledgling company? She blinked away tears. She’d have to quit. She refused to do anything that would endanger TJ, Max, or the company.

  “I won’t let it get that far, Lisa. You have to trust me.”

  “I do. But this is really scary.” Everyone on the rodeo circuit knew her in one way or another. Now she wondered how many of them believed her guilty. She had so much to lose: her job, her reputation, and her freedom.

  “Cops make mistakes every day. This is one of them. No one who knows you will believe you killed Tempest.”

  Lisa’s heart took a little leap. Douglas was willing to fight for her. But then he would, wouldn’t he?

  “If HPD refuses to look at Harold as a suspect, we’ll find the evidence ourselves,” she vowed.

  “Will you be at the rodeo tonight?”

  “Of course. Staying away, hiding in my apartment will make me look guilty.” She had thought about it though, thought about staying home and not competing. She was embarrassed. But she was going to the rodeo as usual and she would compete.

  “You’ll compete tomorrow night?”

  Lisa nodded slowly. She wouldn’t let them take away the one thing she loved best. She hadn’t practiced two or three days a week all year to back out now.

  “Good. After what I just saw, you’ll be an easy win.”

  “Will you be there?” She watched him as he looked blankly at the shoppers as they pushed carts filled with groceries. She’d never seen that expression on his face before. Did he have doubts about her after all?

  He cleared his throat, looked back at her. “I’ll be there with the rest of the family tomorrow night. I’ll also be there tonight.”

  “Really?” A flutter skipped through her chest. Was he suggesting they go to the rodeo together? Like a date?

  “I want to nose around, ask a few questions of my own. Tonight would be a good time to do it.”

  Had she imagined he wanted to be with her? She should have known better. “Actually, I have a couple of extra tickets. If you want to bring a friend, feel free.”

  She rose from her chair and dumped her coffee cup in the garbage.

  Douglas had no choice but to follow her.

  “Don’t worry, Lisa. I’ll work this out.”

  “Hope so.” She looked out the window, unable to focus past the sheen in her eyes.

  He reached over to take her hand. She pulled it back.

  Her dreams were just that—dreams. Douglas would never think of her in a romantic way.

  When he dropped her off, she said, “I’ll leave the tickets at the box office under your name.”

  She got out of his SUV wanting to slam the door, release a little frustration. How could one man be so dense? She was wasting her time. He’d never come to his senses and see her as a woman instead of a second sister.

  Guess what, Douglas Callahan—I have more than two extra tickets and tonight I’m bringing my own friend.

  Before long, sh
e was back on Sugarplum, racing the clock again. This time, she didn’t clip a barrel.

  At the rodeo later that evening, Lisa wished for the umpteenth time that she hadn’t let her temper send her to the phone to ask George DePalma to be her guest tonight.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t a nice guy. He was.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good-looking man. He was.

  He just wasn’t Douglas Callahan.

  She couldn’t sit around and wait until Douglas decided to look at her that certain way. No way was she going to beat herself up because he found other women more attractive, more desirable. She had a life, just not a love life. But Douglas Callahan didn’t need to know that.

  At least she’d had George meet her here instead of picking her up.

  George bent his head toward her, giving her his total attention. She looked into dark brown eyes almost glazed over with longing.

  She’d met George on one of her assignments. It was against the rules to date a client while working a job, but when she'd finished, George had called the office and asked for a date.

  They’d gone to dinner. He’d been a perfect gentleman. But he wanted more—she couldn’t give more. She’d only asked him here tonight because she was pissed at Douglas. She wanted Douglas to see her through another man’s eyes.

  She turned to George, and gave him a thousand-watt smile.

  On his way to his seat, Douglas stopped in his tracks. Who was the guy putting the make on Lisa? When she smiled, the guy looked as if he wanted to grab her and run.

  He’ll have to go through me first.

  The thought was less brotherly and more primal than he expected. He knew Lisa must have a love life. She was too gorgeous not to. But suddenly, he realized he had never seen her with anyone other than TJ and the family. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

  Even at TJ’s and Donovan’s wedding, she’d come alone. She was full of fun, had flitted from one dance partner to another. It never occurred to him to ask why she didn’t bring a date.

  When the guy tried to put an arm around Lisa’s shoulders he saw her tense. Did the casual affection make her uncomfortable?

  Someone nudged Douglas in the back. “Need to get by.”

  “Sorry,” he said, stepping down the ramp to join Lisa and her friend.

  The crowd roared as horses and riders entered the arena. The Grand Entry was underway. Lisa tried to make introductions, but couldn’t be heard over the din.

  Douglas took his seat next to Lisa, stared out at the arena without seeing a thing. Lisa was in real trouble, but she projected nothing but strength and confidence. And sexiness.

  All he had to do was lean a few inches her way and that silky mass of hair would tickle his nose, just as the sweet scent of her did.

  When the guy she was with moved close, took her hand in his, pointed to something of interest in the arena, Douglas felt a stab of irrational anger. What was it about Lisa that made things so difficult?

  He bent to speak close in her ear. “I’m going to see if I can find anyone who will talk to me. Catch you in about thirty.”

  When she turned to smile and nod, he felt the full force of that smile like a punch to the stomach. Then, she forgot all about him as she laughed at a remark from the jerk next to her.

  Douglas got out of there as fast as he could.

  He had a job to do. Needed to tend to business and forget these strange feelings. They were unsettling to say the least.

  It wasn’t easy to forget Lisa was sitting next to a guy who looked as if he wanted to devour her. Or take her to bed.

  As he made his way through the noisy throng, he realized his heartbeat was faster than normal—his anger at a perfect stranger irrational. Whatever was going on, he had to get over it. Lisa needed his help now. If HPD persisted in their belief she was guilty of murder, he’d have his hands full.

  Right now, keeping his mind clear of anything but proving her innocence was off the table.

  Looking around, he wondered whom he should approach. He didn’t know the regulars as Lisa did. He hadn’t considered she’d be with a date. He’d thought she would point out the players and he could ask questions. How had he so entirely misread her offer of tickets? Tickets! Plural. She had left him two tickets and mentioned he could bring someone.

  Like everyone else, Lisa thought he dated dozens of women.

  He knew many, but they were more friends than anything.

  Now he stood there with a stadium full of strangers, wondering what he was going to do next.

  Chapter Six

  Lisa waited a full thirty minutes after Douglas left before she made an excuse to go to the ladies room.

  George nodded as she scooted out of her seat and hurried out, wishing again she hadn’t acted so hastily. He would hound her for another date and, as nice as he was, this was their last.

  Several of the regulars stopped her, wanting to know how she was doing, when they really wanted to know if she was going to jail.

  She smiled, made a quick getaway, and looked for Douglas.

  It took a very long five minutes before she saw him.

  Ignoring the familiar leap of her heart at the sight of him, she headed his way. Earlier irritation slid away. He was here to help her. She could at least be appreciative.

  In his Stetson, boots, and jeans, he looked the cowboy he’d been before he turned into a city lawyer. Just looking at him made her weak in the knees.

  Though she’d vowed to keep her options open, Douglas was in her heart. Maybe forever.

  He caught sight of her, then headed her way.

  “Thought you were busy,” he said with a frown.

  “Thought you wanted to interview some of the folks,” she countered.

  “I do.”

  She didn’t miss his scowl, but doubted it was because of George. “So, where do you want to start?

  The crowd parted, allowing her to see a couple walking across the hall toward the arena. Harold and a blonde. The same woman she’d seen him with the night the cops took her in. The creep. His wife wasn’t cold and he was screwing around already.

  She grabbed Douglas’ arm, pointed discreetly in their direction. “That’s the second time I’ve seen them together. I’d like to know who she is.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  Deep in conversation, the couple didn’t see Douglas as he plowed his way toward them, Lisa in his wake.

  “Mr. Wheatley,” he said extending a hand. “My name is Douglas Callahan, attorney. Sorry to hear about your wife.”

  “Thanks,” Wheatley said without slowing his pace. “It’s been a shock. But I have my own lawyer.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  The blonde turned away, as if she didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.

  When Harold saw Lisa his face closed in anger. “Are you her attorney? If so, we have nothing to talk about.”

  Lisa bristled and stepped forward. Douglas restrained her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  “How dare you tell everyone I hurt my wife?” Wheatley turned on her. “I’ve a good mind to pull your credentials so you can’t compete.”

  “That wouldn’t look good,” Douglas said.

  “Not good for her, you mean?”

  “Not good for you.”

  “Then I suggest you tell your client to stop spreading lies. The longer this chatter goes on, the more upset I get.”

  “I’ll do that,” Douglas said.

  Lisa supposed a loud offense was his way of deflecting guilt. If so, it was working. Curious onlookers were hanging on his every word.

  “I had nothing to do with my wife’s death,” Harold said, his eyes clouded with tears. He glanced at the blonde as if to see if she were still there.

  Lisa followed his gaze. Though the blonde’s back was turned, something about her was familiar. Lisa tried to get a better look, but the woman didn’t turn around.

  “Trust me, Harold. I had no reason to hurt Tempest.”

&nb
sp; “Other than latching onto her to take advantage of her wealth and influence?”

  Lisa lunged forward. Douglas grabbed her arm and held tight.

  “Sounds more like what folks are saying about you,” she growled.

  Harold’s face turned crimson. “Watch it, Ms Kane. You’re treading on very thin ice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to tend to.”

  Lisa turned on her heel and headed back to her seat.

  Douglas fell in behind her.

  They wove their way through the denim-clad crowd until Douglas steered them to a semi-quiet spot.

  “That went well,” Lisa griped. “Harold is a prick. And who is that bimbo with him and his wife isn’t even in her grave?” She pulled out her cell phone, dialed. “Patty, would you e-mail me the pictures you took at the rodeo the other night?”

  She listened a minute. “I’ll call you when I get home. We can discuss it then. And thanks.” As usual, Patty had a problem she wanted to discuss. It would have to wait.

  Shutting off the phone, Lisa looked at Douglas. “I snapped several pictures of the blonde. I’ll see how they came out.” She hoped against hope the pictures were clear enough so Bernie could identify the mystery woman.

  Looking at her watch, she realized she’d been gone too long. She didn’t want George to think she’d run out on him. He was a nice guy even if he wasn’t Mr. Right. “I’ve got to get back,” she said.

  Douglas nodded. “I’ll see if I can learn anything out here before I head home. You might want to keep your distance from our friend Harold.”

  Lisa fumed as she made her way back to her seat, her thoughts jumping between Harold and Douglas.

  Why didn’t Douglas suggest she ditch George and go with him? Not that she’d do it of course, but she’d be tempted. Either the man was as dense as a block of cheese or she wasn’t Douglas’ type. Fancy city, society, career women were probably more to his liking, not cowgirls who grew up at rodeos and chased financial frauds for a living.

  Her head down, her mind engaged in the futile task of ridding her brain of Douglas Callahan, she almost ran into Mike.

  “Hey, Cowgirl. Slow down.”