by Aimée Thurlo
“There’s something special happening between us. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. I won’t believe you.”
“But we can’t act on it,” she pleaded quietly. “Neither of us is ready.”
“Do you remember how it felt when I held and kissed you?”
Her knees were wobbly. It was all she could do to stand her ground. “That was a mistake.”
“Then why did it feel so right?”
She had no answer. But even if she’d had, she was certain no words could have penetrated the sudden tightening at her throat.
“Don’t make me regret letting you stay here tonight,” she said at last, her words a soft plea in the darkened room.
“I won’t take anything you’re not prepared to give me freely,” he said, his voice deep with passion.
As he moved away, a sadness pierced her soul. Only longing filled the emptiness inside her now.
He paused at the door, glanced back at her one last time, then left her room.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Annie sat on the edge of the bed. She’d wanted to surrender to her feelings and give in to Jake, but her life was too unsettled now. She couldn’t afford to allow anyone to distract her from what she had to do. Everything depended on her ability to focus wholeheartedly on her work so she could ensure a secure future for her baby.
Slowly, Annie lay back down on the empty bed, the chill of the night her heart’s only companion.
JAKE OPENED THE back door and stood outside in the darkness. It was bitterly cold, but it was like an icy shower and just what he needed. Annie. The name fit her. The sound was as soft as the whisper of the wind and as feminine as the woman who’d melted under his touch. Passion twisted through him. He wanted her. She’d stood before him, barely clothed, her breasts full and heavy. He’d wanted to take each in his mouth until he drove her crazy with wanting, then leave a moist trail down her body and show her even greater pleasures. He would have given anything for the chance to make her blood sing as she did his.
He muttered a curse under his breath. This was crazy. He knew nothing about her, yet the woman continued to draw him in every way possible. One thing was clear. He couldn’t stay here tonight. Even the thought of her just one doorway away made his body tighten with desire. He went back inside, knowing what he had to do.
Jake turned on the lamp, and had begun to write her a note when a light knock sounded on the front door. He answered it and saw Martin standing there, a worried look on his face.
“I saw you moving around in here,” he said. “The living room curtains are thin. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but I won’t be staying here tonight after all,” he said, taking his jacket from the hook behind the door. “Will you stick around and keep an eye on things?”
Martin didn’t ask for an explanation. He simply nodded.
Jake strode past him, cursing his own weakness. Most of all, he cursed his father, who even in death seemed to control the lives of those around him.
Chapter Seven
Jake had been sitting in his father’s study since dawn, sorting through the accounting books. He was searching for some financial irregularity or unusual expenditures that would point to whomever might have had a motive to commit murder. His progress had been slow, though his only interruption had been a call from the Medical Investigator’s Office. He’d been told that his father’s body would be released today. Shortly after that, he’d left word for the Winter Chief who’d help him plan out the funeral rites. Everything else was on hold until Nick arrived.
Hearing a knock at the door, he glanced up and smiled, seeing Annie. “Come in.”
She entered the room looking even more beautiful than she had last night. Her cheeks were flushed from the brisk air outside, and her brown hair caressed her shoulders.
“We need to talk,” she said, her voice quiet and determined.
“I know. I’m sorry about what happened last night,” he said, then shook his head. “No, that’s not true. The fact is I liked holding you, Annie. Very much.”
Her eyes widened at his unexpected bluntness. “I—” She swallowed. “It can’t happen again.”
“But it may,” he said softly.
“It can’t, Jake. We have to be realistic. I’m going to have a baby very soon. I’m not looking for a casual relationship.”
He saw her point. He’d spent a lifetime avoiding emotional commitments; it had become a way of life. He’d watched his parents’ marriage deteriorate—he’d seen first-hand the big price of love, and he wanted no part of it. But his feelings for Annie wouldn’t let him just walk away. “The attraction between us is real, Annie,” he whispered.
“And these things usually follow their own course.”
She shook her head. “I don’t live my life that way,” she said, her tone final.
Jake said nothing. Life just wasn’t that simple, whether or not she chose to believe it. Seeing the set look on her face, he decided to not pursue the matter for the moment.
Annie glanced down at the ledgers scattered across the desk. The Rolodex card file was almost on the very edge, and she pushed it back so it wouldn’t fall off. “Have you found anything in those books that’ll give us a clue to the killer?”
He shook his head. “It’s hard to piece anything together. My father wasn’t much on office organization. His banking records show that there were substantial cash withdrawals every month. But I’m not sure if that’s significant or not.”
“Have you spoken to Virgil Lowman?”
“Not yet. I doubt anyone will be at the bank this early. It’s barely nine. I thought I’d pay him a visit after they open. Why don’t you come with me? You know Virgil, and that might help me. You’ll be able to sense if he’s holding back on me better than I could. I figure he may be reluctant to answer some of my questions out of respect for my father’s privacy—that is, unless he sees them as pertinent to the murder.”
“I’ll help you any way I can, but Virgil’s pretty easy to read. From what I’ve seen, he speaks his mind.”
“But he’s also a businessman, which means he knows when to withhold information. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be running that bank, or be in a position of trust.”
She conceded the point. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for you.”
“In particular, I want you to let me know if you see or sense any change in Virgil’s attitude when I ask him questions about my father’s investments. He was my father’s financial advisor, so I intend to push him pretty hard.”
“Don’t push too hard. You need his cooperation. If you make him angry, he’s likely to shut you out altogether. Virgil must have respected your father, but I’m not sure how much of that he’ll extend to you simply because you’re his son.”
He nodded. Many, including Annie, didn’t know the real reason why he and his brother had left and never returned. Few would ever understand the sense of betrayal and abandonment they’d felt when they’d been abruptly cast out of their own home.
“I’ll tread carefully,” he said, “but I have a right to any information that pertains to my father and I intend to get it.”
“Just remember, your approach may determine your success—or failure.”
He nodded. A cool head. He’d need it—on every level. “In the meantime, will you help me search around the office? I’m looking for any papers that indicate expenditures or shifts in funds that seem unusual or extreme. And if you run across anything that looks like my mother’s diary, I’d appreciate you letting me know. I’ve searched for it, but I haven’t had any luck.”
An hour later, after a fruitless search of Paul’s office, they left for the bank. It wasn’t long after their arrival that they were shown into Virgil Lowman’s office at the pueblo’s small bank. The leather seats were stiff, but they matched the stuffy atmosphere of the office. Jake sat and regarded Lowman with a level gaze.
“I’ve been expecting your visit,” Lowman said, sitting across from them. “I know you’ll want acce
ss to your father’s accounts and his safe-deposit box, but until the will is read or there’s some kind of court order, I can’t help you. Captain Mora already asked about the deposit box, but he doesn’t have a court order, and apparently he doesn’t have enough to get one.”
“You think he would have been able to, with the murder and all,” Annie commented, surprised.
“Paul was the victim, not the killer, and from what Mora said, he specifically mentioned that the evidence he left hidden was at the ranch. A search warrant has to be specific, so Mora would have to specify what he’s looking for and explain why he believes it’s in the safe-deposit box. If he presses the matter, he’ll be able to get a warrant eventually, I’m sure, but that’s not his plan. I think he intends to wait until the will is read and then be present when Jake opens the box. Believe it or not, it’ll probably be faster that way.” He looked at Annie. “Do you have a direct interest in this?”
Jake knew that Virgil was referring to her baby. He watched Annie’s expression, but it revealed nothing of her thoughts.
“I’m here because Jake asked me to come, and because Paul was my friend and the best way I can repay him is by helping his son.” She held his gaze boldly, knowing she’d sent him a clear message. “Does my presence make you uncomfortable?”
Her bluntness took Lowman by surprise. “If Jake wants you here, then it’s okay with me,” he said.
“Then let’s get back to business,” Jake said. “Are there any discrepancies in his accounts I should be aware of?”
“All his money can be accounted for, to the penny.”
“Did he have many investments?”
“Some of your father’s money went for the purchase of stocks and bonds. It was a routine procedure he asked us to handle once a month on his behalf. The bank complied,” Virgil said.
“To the best of your knowledge was the ranch on solid financial ground?”
“Your father had one of the most successful businesses on this pueblo. It wasn’t a huge operation, but it was as large as he wanted it to be. His horses were always in demand. Buyers came from all over the southwest. He could have expanded the ranch’s operation several times over, but he chose to keep it at the level it was.” Virgil paused. “Paul used to say that the reputation of the Black Raven Ranch rode with every animal he sold. Quality was everything to him. That’s why the Black Raven name and brand carries so much weight in these parts. That’s the real inheritance he passed on to you and your brother.”
Jake said nothing. His father had always been protective of the ranch. He’d built the business from scratch, starting out with only two horses. The ranch had been everything to his father and that had been part of the problem since it had left little room for anything else.
“If the ranch had a financial Achilles’ heel, what would you say it was?” Jake pressed.
“I think Paul himself was the ranch’s biggest asset and also its greatest liability,” Virgil said. “He could have cut corners taking care of those horses and paid his wranglers a little less so he could increase his profits. But he never did. Money was never your father’s priority. I’ve heard he even gave out unofficial loans on occasion and allowed people to pay him back whenever they wanted. To him, money was a by-product of the operation. It was the business itself that held his interest, not the money he made.”
“I can understand that,” Jake admitted grudgingly. He was the same way, and that bothered him. He’d always prided himself on being nothing at all like his father.
“Do you know where we might find a copy of my father’s will?” Jake asked after a brief silence.
“If you can’t find it at the ranch, you’ll have to ask his attorney, Patrick Kelly. That’s an aspect of your father’s life I knew nothing about.”
“I’ve been trying to track down Kelly for Jake,” Annie said, “but I’ve been told he’s on vacation in Europe. His office is having a tough time finding him.”
“Have patience. Things take a little longer during the holiday season. He’ll be in touch,” Virgil assured them.
But patience was something Jake had precious little of these days. He’d left his business in the hands of his head foreman and he missed the daily challenges of running his own company. Here on the pueblo he was his father’s son—nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t enough for him. He’d worked too hard to build a life of his own.
“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Jake asked.
“Not really. Most of what I know about your father is based on our business association and that, by its very nature, had its limitations.”
“I’ve noticed that he made substantial cash withdrawals every month. Any idea what that money went to?”
“None I’d care to speculate on. I suggest you go through his accounting books back home until you track them down, if he entered them at all.”
After thanking Virgil for his time, they headed back to the ranch. “The key seems to lie with those accounting ledgers,” Jake said. “But it’s going to take me forever to add up all those columns and try to reconcile everything.”
“Maybe Nick can help. Will he be coming soon?”
“I have no idea. I can’t speak for Nick.” He paused. “I can’t speak to Nick. He and I look alike, admittedly, but that’s where the similarities end. We’ll just have to wait until he shows up.”
“Was it always that way? I mean, were you and Nick ever close?”
“We were always competing against each other in school, and had different groups of friends, but I suppose we had some fun times. The last Christmas we had together was just before we graduated from high school. I remember going out on our horses to cut down a Christmas tree. Dad said we’d have to get it ourselves if we wanted one. His attitude annoyed us so much we got an enormous spruce, reaching all the way to the ceiling in the sala. He had to spring for an extra string of lights, but at least he helped us decorate it. That was a surprise. He even put on the ornaments our mom had painted for us when we were kids.” He paused, then lost in thought, added, “I wonder what ever happened to those.”
Annie smiled. “Paul hung them on the tree himself the day before he died. You might want to take a closer look sometime.”
He lapsed into a thoughtful silence until they were at the ranch. “Do you mind if we make a stop by the stables first? I need to talk to Rick, Martin’s nephew.”
“No problem. Is it about the case?”
“In a way. He’s worked for my father ever since he turned eighteen. He’s thirty now, and probably knows quite a bit about the ranch. I figure he’ll probably have a different perspective than Martin would on things, and that may be useful to us.”
As they left the truck, her movements were slightly clumsy, but instead of being put off, Jake found them endearing. Wondering if he’d ever have a sane thought again, he entered the stables.
A tall, thin man around Jake’s age, wearing jeans and a denim barn coat, came out of an empty stall.
“Hey, Rick,” Jake greeted.
Rick set the pitchfork against the wall and shook Jake’s outstretched hand. “It’s really good to see you back at the stable, Jake. Did you want me to saddle up one of the horses?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be going for a ride one of these mornings, but not today. I came here hoping to talk to you.”
“Can we talk while I work? I’m running behind and I need to bring down some hay. I could use a hand, too, if you’re willing.” Rick gave Jake’s clothing a speculative glance. “Never mind. You’re wearing your good clothes.”
Jake pulled off his wool sweater and shirt, stripping down to a long-sleeved undershirt. “Let’s get to that hay. And while we’re stacking bales, tell me how business has been going here.”
“Not much has changed since you left, in that respect. It’s just a matter of keeping the horses in top shape and getting good prices for them.”
As Annie looked at Jake, a delicious warmth ribboned around her. His muscles pressed
against the thin fabric of his undershirt as he worked with purpose and power. Raw masculinity defined everything about him.
As the men began to move the bales of hay from the upper floor of the barn, she watched the good-natured competition between them. She could see the determination that drove Jake. He moved quickly and efficiently as he kept up with Rick, tossing bales down onto the ground floor.
When the men came down the ladder to restack the bales, she saw that Rick was wearing leather gloves, but Jake had no such protection, using only a big hook and his bare hands. His hands were reddened from the abrasion, but he didn’t seem to notice. He went up to one of the horses who had waited impatiently for his feed and stroked his neck, his touch gentle.
Annie stood quietly, scarcely breathing, remembering how those same hands had felt on her naked skin. Desire flowed through her. She’d never thought it could happen to her—this craziness, these longings that ripped through her with such fierce intensity. Yet she couldn’t deny the truth. Jake was stealing her heart a little at a time.
Hearing someone behind her, she turned her head. Martin entered the barn and, seeing Rick place a flake of hay in one of the feeders, glared at his nephew. “Where in the hell have you been? It’s way past these animals’ feeding time. I cleaned out the stalls and filled the water troughs over an hour ago.”
As Jake came out of one of the other stalls, his slacks covered with hay, Martin looked at him in surprise. When he turned to look at Rick once again, his gaze was stone cold. “And you asked Jake to help you?”
“It’s okay, Martin. I wanted to,” Jake said. “It’s been a while since I got a chance to work out here in the barn. It felt good.”
Martin didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “You and I will talk later.”
As he left the barn, Rick muttered a curse. “Translated, that means there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Rick, would you like me to talk to him?” Annie asked. “We were the ones who interrupted you, not the other way around.”
“Nah. I can handle it,” he said, then gave her a quick half smile. “He and I have been arguing back and forth for years. It’s all part of Uncle Martin’s nature. He used to fight with Paul, too, but you know about that. They each thought they knew what was best for the horses, and they argued about it all the time.” He stopped speaking, then looked at Jake quickly. “But Uncle Martin never disregarded Paul’s orders, believe me. My family’s always been loyal to yours.”