Promise Her

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Promise Her Page 13

by Mitzi Pool Bridges


  “Sorry.”

  “I’ll be taking care of and watching over Lisa for the next couple of weeks, Evan. I appreciate your being here today.”

  “If you need me again give me a yell.” He put his card on the fridge under a magnet.

  “Will do.”

  Douglas walked him to the door. “Remind everyone to double lock the door when they leave,” he said when he was back in the kitchen. “Now, what’s this about investigative work?”

  “What’s this about you being here for the next few weeks? You have a job. Remember?”

  He waved her questions aside. “Nothing I couldn’t put off.” He grinned. “Besides, right now, you’re my job.”

  Wasn’t that just like him? Dense as a board, and so handsome she couldn’t stand it.

  “About that investigative work?” he asked again.

  “Would you mind going to my room and picking up the folder on the bed? We need to talk.”

  He was back in seconds.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Read this. Tempest has a twin.”

  “What?” He opened the folder, scanned the contents.

  “That could explain how her money was taken out of her account so easily.”

  “It could. But it doesn’t tell us who killed Tempest.” He handed back the folder.

  “No it doesn’t. We need to do some legwork. That’s why I asked Evan if his company did investigations. AAF is so busy now I hate to ask Max for anything more.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You have a law practice. Court cases. By the way, how did it go today?”

  “We won. Back to the investigative work. We do a lot of that in our office.”

  “Do you hire investigators?”

  “When we have to.”

  “Have someone in mind?”

  “Me.”

  She shook her head.

  “No one knows more about this case than I do.”

  “That’s not the point. You can’t let your practice suffer. I know how busy you are.”

  “I checked my calendar this morning, had my secretary clear the decks for the next two weeks. If I can’t get a handle on this by then, I’ll re-think my strategy.”

  “Can I talk you out of this?” She had to. If not, she’d have to leave, if for no other reason than to save her sanity.

  “Nope. I’ve made up my mind. I want the bastard who did this to you. Since we both think it ties in with Tempest’s murder we’ll have to solve that too.”

  “Great,” she mumbled. “Max and Bernie are working on this. So am I. Besides, I’m perfectly safe with Evan. Please, Douglas. Don’t let your practice suffer because of me.

  “You don’t think I can do it. Is that it?”

  “That isn’t it at all.” Definitely wasn’t. “I just can’t handle the guilt. You’ve done too much already.”

  He came over to stand beside her. Hugged her gently. “You’re family, Lisa. Don’t for one minute think this is a burden on my part. I want to do this. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t.”

  She moved away from him before she melted right onto the floor. This was getting worse and worse. There was no way she could change his mind. Callahans were way too stubborn.

  “Then I’m going with you. I have more experience in this field than you do.”

  “Yeah, you do. But you’re staying here. I’ll have Evan stay with you.”

  “Not going to happen. You said you knew more about this case than anyone. You don’t. I’ve been at the rodeo for every performance. I know the players. Besides, I’m much better today—by tomorrow I’ll be raring to go.” She had to do this herself. At least then, she’d know the investigation was thorough.

  Douglas shook his head.

  “I’m going with you, and that’s final.”

  “Okay. Let’s say you do go with me. Where would you start?” Douglas challenged.

  Lisa thought a minute. “I’d go to Tempest and Storm’s parents’ home where they lived as children. It’s here in Houston, I saw it in the file. I’d talk to neighbors and see if anyone remembers Storm or if they stayed in touch.”

  He nodded.

  “Where would you start?”

  “I’d go to the brokerage firm that handles the trust, get a description of the person who took the money. Then, I’d take a copy of the signature to an expert and have it compared to an earlier signature to see if they match.”

  “Both good ideas. So which do we do first?” Lisa asked.

  “Neither. We have dinner. What would you like?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “We have to eat.”

  “What would you eat if I weren’t here?”

  Douglas’ eyes narrowed.

  “Don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”

  Because the truth would hurt. More than likely, Douglas would have a date. More than likely, he’d eat dinner out.

  But that didn’t mean she had to hear about it.

  “I don’t eat out as often as you think,” he said as if reading her mind. “Most evenings, I bring my work home and work late. I’m not a great cook, but I get by.”

  “Anything, then. I’m not picky.”

  Some of the tightness in her chest loosened.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I have to admit, Douglas. That was good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Amazing how a simple stir-fry could taste so good when you shared it with the person you loved.

  Lisa let her mind wander. How would it be to share a meal every night for the rest of their lives? She looked at him; he’d changed into jeans and T-shirt and was as relaxed as she’d ever seen him.

  He was getting used to her being here. But she was miserable. She wanted more than she thought he’d ever be able to give one woman. The phone had interrupted their meal twice. Once he let it go to voice mail, the other one, he excused himself and left the room.

  She had to get it through her thick head that Douglas would flit from one woman to another for a very long time. Maybe forever. While she was ready for that forever time. Being around TJ and little Duncan; seeing her best friend so happy and pregnant, made Lisa want the same. Would she ever have it with the man she wanted?

  He took the dishes to the sink. She started to get up and help.

  “Sit. You’re still recuperating.”

  “Okay. But after tonight, consider me recouped.”

  He laughed, almost dropped a dish. “Is that a word?”

  “Should be.”

  His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. She loved to hear him laugh; loved his voice. Heck, she loved just about everything about the jerk. Everything except that stubborn streak of his. Well, maybe even that. Just not when he was being stubborn about her.

  After putting the last dish in the dishwasher, he swiped the counter one last time and turned to look at her. “Seriously, how are the scrapes? They have to hurt.”

  “Actually, they’re better. I only took two Tylenol today. Big improvement.”

  “Good.”

  “So where do we start tomorrow? Neighborhood or brokerage firm?”

  He came over to sit across from her. “It’s too soon for you to go out. You need to rest a few more days.”

  “Forget what Mom told you. I’m good to go. I just have to be careful with my left side for a while. Other than that, I’m back to normal.”

  “We should let the doctor decide that.”

  “Now tell me, who knows how I feel? The doctor? Or me?”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Not so.”

  His mouth twitched. She had to look away.

  “Have you heard from Darin?”

  He nodded. “HPD is looking at everybody. Your buddies have raised so much hell the cops went back and interviewed everyone who was there that night. Again.”

  “Good for them. What did HPD find?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then we need to ask our own questions. Get involved.�


  “Lisa! That’s pushing it.”

  “Maybe. But we can’t wait until the rodeo is over and everyone scatters. We have to go soon. It’s a three-week stint and there’s only a few days left.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I am. Besides, I have to talk to Harold.”

  “Harold won’t talk to you.”

  “He might now. There are questions he may or may not be able to answer. But they have to be asked.”

  “When do you plan on doing this?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “That’s stretching your stamina a little too far and too fast.”

  She drummed her fingers on the table. “Okay. We’ll choose one of our options for in the morning, then come back here and rest a while before the rodeo.” If she could possibly swing it, she’d go back to her own apartment. She could think better if she wasn’t around Douglas.

  “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”

  “Don’t even try.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He looked at his watch. “TV, bed, or book?”

  She wanted to say bed and see if he’d take the hint, but all he would do was escort her to her room, tuck her in, and kiss her on the forehead again.

  Sighing, she got up and headed for her room. “I’ll take the folder to bed, see if I can glean anything from it I didn’t catch the first time.”

  “Need any help?”

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  She was tired of saying she was fine. She wasn’t fine at all. She still hurt, just didn’t want to admit it. But she had to get involved, clear herself, and find who did this to her.

  Wanting Douglas was a weakness. Being so close made it worse.

  At least with her in bed they wouldn’t be in the same room.

  ****

  He watched her walk down the hall, courage written all over her. She was hurting, but too stubborn to admit it. How would he ever keep her from going with him tomorrow?

  Admiration mixed with exasperation.

  If the family found out she was out there chasing clues, they’d skin him alive. Not to mention how he’d feel if anything happened to make her hurt more than she already did.

  He went to his office, the name of the PI who was hired by Tempest’s parents to find Storm etched in his mind.

  Taking the easiest route first, he checked the phone book. Not there. What did he expect?

  Next, the Internet.

  He garnered a little information, printed it before going further.

  Stan Fielding had closed his firm five years ago. Retired. He had to be somewhere.

  Once more, Douglas checked the Internet. According to the information he found, the man’s hobby was fishing. It was likely he retired somewhere close to water.

  That could be anywhere.

  Picking up the phone, he called information. On the fifth try, he found a Stan Fielding in the Madagorda Bay area. Taking a chance, he dialed.

  The man who answered sounded tired.

  “Are you the Stan Fielding who had a Private Investigative firm in Houston five years ago?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Sorry, I’m Douglas Callahan. I’m an attorney trying to find the Collier twin, Storm Collier. I understand you looked for her years ago without any luck.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “I had someone look into it. That’s what they found.”

  “So what’s your interest in this?”

  “Her sister died.” He didn’t want to tell the man Tempest had been murdered. It could turn him off and Douglas needed information. “I’m trying to find Storm because she’s next of kin.”

  The man let out a tired sigh. “I found her not too long after her dad made his millions. She was in Dallas at the time, still a kid and still stubborn. She wouldn’t go back home, told me to tell her dad he could take his money and stuff it you know where. The family went to Dallas to try and talk her into coming home, but she’d disappeared again.”

  “How old was she then?”

  “She’d been gone from home over a year by then. She was probably seventeen.”

  “How did you find her? I mean in what circumstance? How would a teen survive on her own?”

  “I’m not sure. She was a bright kid, but she dealt her parents misery. The episode before she left home was brutal. She dated a boy or rather a man way too old for her. Her parents put their foot down, took away all of her privileges. That’s when she hoofed it out of there. When I caught up with her, she was still with the guy, flipping burgers at a small burger joint. I think they were living in his car. I tried, but couldn’t find an address. I checked the utility companies, but found nothing in their names.”

  “I suppose you checked with the burger place to see if they had an address on record.”

  “Yeah. Fake. That’s why I think they lived in his car.”

  “License number of the car?”

  “Nowhere. Must have sold it. The girl didn’t want to be found.”

  Douglas thought a minute. Couldn’t come up with anything else to ask. “Can I check with you later if anything comes up?”

  “Sure. Don’t know what good it will do. The girl could be dead by now. Some of the kids who live on the streets don’t have a very long lifespan.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem.”

  They could be beating a dead horse trying to find Storm. Like Fielding said, she could be dead by now.

  If so, who took Tempest’s money from her trust? Tempest thought it was her husband. He was the logical person to look at. But if it was Harold how did he do it? Storm made more sense.

  Lisa was convinced Storm was involved in her sister’s death. Were Storm and Harold in this together? If they were, where the hell was she?

  No matter which scenario proved correct, the question still remained—who killed Tempest and set up Lisa? And why?

  Douglas went to the door of Lisa’s room, looked in. Her eyes were closed. Papers from the file were scattered on the bed. He went in as quietly as possible and put the papers back in the folder and onto the night table.

  He started to turn out the light. Couldn’t. All he could do was look at her, inhale her sweetness.

  The urge to crawl under the covers with her was so strong he had to get out of there. Shutting off the light, he almost ran from the room.

  Thoughts like that could get him in more trouble than he could handle.

  He went to the den and turned on the TV, but nothing interested him. His interest lay in bed a few feet away.

  ****

  The next morning, Lisa opened her eyes and curled deeper into the covers for a couple more minutes, trying to ignore the aches that followed her there. “It’s going to be a Tylenol day.” Douglas couldn’t find out. But she didn’t know how good an actress she was. Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed and made it to the bathroom. She remembered what she’d promised TJ and, instead of taking a shower, simply washed up. “I hate this.”

  Doing a few stretches, she tried not to moan at the effort.

  She dressed slowly in a western shirt. No jeans. They were too tight on her abrasions. She found a pair of black, loose-legged slacks and pulled them on. A touch of lipstick, a comb through her hair and she was ready to go.

  No way was Douglas going to keep her here.

  When she got to the kitchen, Douglas wasn’t there.

  If he left without me there will be war.

  Then she heard him in his office. His low chuckle drew her closer. “Sorry, babe. I’m out of pocket for a while.”

  Silence.

  Then, “I’m taking care of my little sister after her accident. I’ll call once I’m free.”

  “What?” Lisa blew out a quiet curse.

  “No. No dinner. Not here or at a restaurant. I told you I’m tied up with this. I’ll make it up to you soon.”

  More silence as he was obviously listening.

  “Sorry,�
�� he said and hung up.

  He made two more similar calls. Each made Lisa’s anger rise another notch. The man was a first class womanizer.

  She went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee. “Little sister, huh?” She slammed a few dishes on the counter, banged a pot on the stove. “I’m not his sister,” she almost cried. “I’m not.”

  But she knew that in his eyes, she was. The thought didn’t make her feel better.

  By the time he crawled out of his office, she was in a snit.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Not a thing.” The words came out between tightly compressed lips. Why did she have to fall for such a jerk? He loved every woman he met. Except her.

  “Lisa! Are you all right?”

  “Never better,” she said as she loped past him, opened the fridge and grabbed a container of yogurt.

  In the heat of anger, aches and pains were forgotten as white-hot fury consumed her.

  “Then sit down while I get you a cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll get my own.” She jerked a cup out of the cabinet, filled it and went to the table.

  The coffee, though hot, felt good.

  Bringing a cup to the table he sat opposite her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting different this morning.”

  Get used to it, she thought. “Are you ready to go?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “I’m waiting on you, Douglas,” she said sweetly.

  ****

  Douglas opened the door of the SUV and tried to help Lisa in, but was met with a glare so hot it would melt wax. What had gotten into her? She’d been on a tear all morning and he didn’t have a clue. Was she hurting? Worried? What?

  Another quick glance. Blue eyes threw daggers. What had he missed?

  Everything was fine last night.

  At least he’d thought so.

  He sighed inwardly. No sense in racking his brain. She’d come out of it in her own good time.

  “I thought we’d check the brokerage firm first.”

  “Fine,” she snapped.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He couldn’t stand it. Even hurting, Lisa was even-tempered. And she was always warm and friendly. Not this morning. “Are you hurting?”

  “I’m better. Good enough to go back to my apartment tomorrow.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Yes, I can. If you won’t take me, TJ will come and get me.”

 

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