by Aimée Thurlo
“I thought that was the best way to find out what he knew,” Jake said.
“I’ll tell you what I know. Dad was being blackmailed precisely because he didn’t want us to know too much about Mom. I believe, even now, Martin would continue to respect Dad’s wishes on that subject and tell us as little as possible.”
“Point taken,” Jake said, conceding. “I just wish we had that diary back.”
Nick stood. “I’m going to do some work at the pueblo job center for an hour or so, because I volunteered to help out. But as soon as the lumber and nails are delivered, I’ll come back here and lend the men a hand with the repairs on the barn.”
As he walked out, Jake checked his watch. “I’m going to see Lowman this morning. I want to find out more about my mother’s account.” As he looked at Annie, he wondered if she knew how much he cared about her and how much he wanted to take her into his arms. He looked away, knowing he needed to stay focused. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“I can’t. I’m behind schedule on my work as it is.”
“It could be dangerous for you to stay here alone, particularly after what’s happened,” he said. “All our hands will be outside this morning working on repairing the barn and stalls. That’s our first priority, not the house. This place is still airtight and structurally sound, but the animals need a secure place ready for them when the weather turns foul.”
“I’ll stay on my guard, don’t worry. The locks are still good, remember? There’s also the gun cabinet down the hall,” she said.
He gave her a skeptical look. “Would you be able to use a rifle or shotgun?”
“If I had to, yes. Your father taught me how to shoot. But I don’t think it would come to that. If I hear an intruder, I’ll call the men.”
“With wood saws, and the electric nail guns, you might not be heard. This guy, whoever he is, is getting bolder. Torching our house seems like an act of desperation to me, don’t you agree? Besides, Annie, I can really use your help. We don’t know who the murderer is. We need to look at everyone and everything carefully. You can pick up subtleties and changes in mood faster than I ever would, and something like that could end up leading us to a vital clue.”
“All right,” she said at last. “But I’ve got to tell you, I’m getting worried about missing my deadline for these pieces. It’s only three days away.”
“Will the gallery be upset?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that with Christmas almost here, I can get better prices. After the holidays, people are usually hit by a ton of bills and the money for luxuries is tighter.”
“We’ll get our business done and get back here as soon as possible,” he promised, going to get their jackets.
Five minutes later they were on the narrow two-lane highway. “There’s one thing we have in our favor,” Annie said thoughtfully. “The person who set fire to the house has no way of knowing if he succeeded in burning the evidence or not.”
“You’re right. He knows less than we do—for once.”
Annie sat up, focusing on the area around them. “Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the bank.”
“When I called earlier, I was told Virgil wouldn’t be in until just before noon, but that he was planning to have a late breakfast at the Silver Slipper Casino. I figured meeting him there was perfect, since I’d rather catch him away from the bank where he’ll be more relaxed.”
“Where’s the casino?”
“On another pueblo about a half hour from here. We should arrive just about the time he comes in.”
As the miles stretched before them, Jake was acutely aware of everything about Annie. Her perfume was elusive and gently scented, like her. He felt a stirring in his blood. Though she was completely out of his reach, he couldn’t stop wanting her, and not just in a physical sense. Annie was a remarkable woman. She had more courage than many men he’d met and when she spoke of debts of honor, she truly meant them, she wasn’t just saying the words.
Although they arrived at the casino early in the day, the parking lot was almost full. Inside, a noisy crowd hovered at the tables and slot machines.
They soon found Lowman at one of the blackjack tables, a soft drink at his side. Seeing them, he played out his losing hand and greeted them with handshakes.
“What brings you two here? I thought you’d be working on the barn or home repairs. Do you need a loan?”
“No, actually we wanted to talk to you about another matter and decided it would be better to catch you away from the bank so we wouldn’t be disturbed,” Jake said, deliberately keeping his tone casual. The last thing he wanted to do was to alarm Lowman in any way. His gut told him that the banker knew more than he’d shared with them so far.
“Come on,” Lowman said. “Let me buy you two an early lunch—or late breakfast.”
“I understand you’re a regular here,” Jake proclaimed after they were seated in the restaurant area. He didn’t really know if it were true, but he couldn’t think of any place where a bluff was more appropriate.
Lowman laughed. “It all started when our pueblo asked me to look into the feasibility of opening our own casino. Now, it’s just a good place to get lunch.” He grew serious. “So tell me. What can I do for you?”
“I’m trying to put some pieces of my past together,” Jake said, “and it hasn’t been easy. Did you know my mother well?”
Lowman’s expression softened and his eyes misted. “She was a great lady. She charmed everyone who knew her.”
It was the sudden gentling of Lowman’s gruff voice that alerted him. “Were you two friends?”
Virgil took a deep breath, then let it out. “We went to school together for years, and I’d like to think she considered me a friend,” he said, his voice sad. “But your father was very jealous and protective of Saya. There was never time for us to just sit and talk, though we both would have liked that.”
“Who was her best friend?” Jake asked.
“I think she was close to the mother of one of your high school classmates, but the woman died tragically with her husband years ago. Saya confided in me from time to time, and sometimes in Martin, but she was always careful around him. His allegiance was to Paul.”
“And yours?” Jake asked as their sandwiches were brought to the table.
“I was a friend to both your parents,” he said with a shrug. “But I never would have betrayed Saya’s confidences.”
“Just recently we found a deposit slip that indicates my mother had a bank account in her name. I was hoping you could shed some light on that. It seems out of character somehow.”
Lowman’s eyes focused on an indeterminate spot across the room. “I remember that. She called it her nest egg. I don’t think your father even knew about it until after her death.”
“So the account was turned over to him or Patrick Kelly as part of the estate?”
“That’s usually how it works, but I don’t recall. It was so many years ago. I’d have to check our records at the bank, and that might take a while.”
“I’d appreciate it if you would,” Jake persisted.
“I’ll take care of it.” Lowman checked his watch. “I have to get to the bank now, but take your time eating and get dessert if you want. I’ll have the bill put on my tab. And if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to contact me. I thought the world of your mother, and of your father, too.”
Afterward, as they walked to the car, Annie looked at Jake. “I don’t know if you picked up on this or not, but I believe Lowman was in love with your mother at one time.”
“I think that’s overstating it a bit.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She considered her words carefully. “Did you notice the way he spoke about her? Even his tone of voice changed. It was wistful. But I don’t think your mom ever acknowledged his feelings. For some reason I was reminded of the kind of crush teenage boys have on the cheerleaders at their schools.”
“It’s possible.
My mother was a beautiful woman. I’ve heard my uncle say that she could have had any man in the village, but she fell in love with my father and, after that, no one else would do.”
“I wonder if Martin felt the same way about her, too,” she mused.
The question surprised him. It was hard to think of Martin as being attracted to his mother in any way. “I don’t think that’s possible. He was totally loyal to my father.”
“I’m not saying that there was anything inappropriate going on. I’m only suggesting that Martin may have had feelings for her, as well. Things like that tend to complicate even the simplest matters.”
“Are you now thinking that Martin might have had something to do with the murder?”
She shook her head. “I’d be shocked if he did. Martin isn’t a violent man. A more realistic possibility is that he’s holding back information, trying to protect people who have passed away and are beyond the need of protection.”
Jake nodded. “That could be. I’ll look into that some more as I follow the trail of the missing bank account. If anyone, Martin included, is holding back information that might root out my father’s killer, I’ll find out sooner or later.”
“Let’s just hope we get what we need before the killer does,” Annie whispered.
Chapter Fifteen
After they arrived at the ranch, Annie went straight to her studio. As she looked at her carvings, hope filled her. These would bring her a good price. She was certain of it.
As Annie worked, her concentration was complete. No other thoughts were allowed to intrude as she listened to her instincts and the wood chip carving began its final step toward completion.
Hearing a knock at the door sometime later, she jumped and spun around. Jake stood there, holding a fire-damaged glass Christmas ornament. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought maybe you could do something with this,” he said.
She looked at what had once been the beautiful ornament his mother had painted for him. “It’s pretty badly damaged. I’m not sure it can be restored.”
As he looked directly at her, she saw the sadness in his eyes. “This has been in our family for at least twenty years,” he said. “I just thought that maybe...”
Annie could have no more turned him down than she could have stopped her heart from beating. She knew how small things could give comfort, becoming the center of memories too cherished to relinquish.
“I won’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.
His gaze caressed her as intimately as a lover’s touch and, for a moment, magic shimmered between them.
“My father was right about you, Annie,” he said softly. “Your gentleness encompasses everything you touch.” He reached for her hand. “I really do need you in my life.”
She gave his hand a squeeze, then let go. Even friendship couldn’t be trusted when her body sang with needs only he could assuage.
He walked over and studied her angel carving. “This is really an incredible piece of work. There’s something very lifelike about the emotions on their faces.”
“If people who look at the piece can identify with the feelings I carved into the figures, then I’ve done the job I set out to do. It’s hard to make people really feel anything these days, you know? We grow up learning how to shield ourselves from emotions.”
“I didn’t realize how much I do that until you came into my life.”
Longing filled her as she looked at him. With a burst of will, she moved away. It was too hard to even think with him in the same room. “Will you excuse me? It’s almost dark and I still have to go for my daily walk.”
“Let me walk with you. I need some fresh air and I’d much rather not have you walk around alone anymore.”
Knowing from the set look on his face that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and not having the strength to argue, she agreed.
They headed in the direction of the barns, walking slowly. As they reached the pile of charred lumber that had been stacked on the north side of the corral, Jake stopped and stared at the debris from the fire. “None of the animals was hurt, so I should be grateful. But when I look at the damage and the waste, I feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut.”
Annie wondered if Jake realized that his love for the ranch was coming through in every word he uttered. “This is your home. It’s natural to resent an attack like this.”
“Let’s take a closer look inside the barn. I promised Martin I’d check the progress here this evening.” Jake switched on some extension lights and the large kerosene heater the men had used earlier.
She walked with him through the barn until they reached the newly rebuilt stalls. “At least this part is finished and you’ll be able to stable the horses whenever you want,” she said.
Jake climbed up the ladder to the hayloft. Only the remnants of a few bales remained, too scattered to be used easily for feed. It would probably have to be raked up and used for bedding instead.
“Be careful up there,” she warned.
“It’s okay. The flooring’s been patched, as well as the roof.” He began to sort through some scorched beams, trying to salvage a leather halter that had originally hung from a rafter.
“You better come down. I can tell from here that the flooring hasn’t been reinforced enough. It dips when you walk.”
“Let me get this halter first. It’s stuck under some damaged wood that was replaced but not hauled outside.” As he knelt, trying to move a nail-filled board, the wood groaned under his weight.
Hearing the sound, Annie looked up quickly to see the board begin to sag down. She called out a warning, but it was too late.
The wood splintered and Jake started to fall through, but he reached out desperately, grabbed a floor joist and hung on.
Her heart in her throat, Annie watched as he dangled from the loft. “Hang on!” Looking around for a ladder or something to break his fall, she noticed the pitchfork directly beneath Jake. It had been wedged in place between a small stack of undamaged hay bales, tines up. “Don’t let go!”
She wrenched the pitchfork free, then moved the bales closer together. “Okay, you can drop down now. The hay will cushion your fall.”
Jake hit the ground with a grunt, and rolled off the bales into a pile of straw bedding.
Annie watched anxiously as he sat up, brushing the straw out of his hair and off his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. But thanks for spotting the pitchfork. I owe you one.”
“This was no accident,” she said. “That pitchfork wasn’t just left there, it was carefully propped like a spear.”
He looked up and studied the section of flooring that had given away. “That new wood was partially sawn through after the repairs were made. Had I fallen on the pitchfork...” His gaze captured hers again. “The murderer might have claimed another victim, if it hadn’t been for you.”
“But how could he have known you’d come here to the barn and climb to the loft when you did?”
“He couldn’t have, not for sure. Anyone working here, like Martin, Rick or one of the wranglers, could have been caught in this trap. He’s trying anything now just to slow us down or warn us off. The real problem is, he’s getting desperate. This person isn’t concerned about hurting innocent bystanders and that’s what makes him deadly, not only to the Black Ravens, but to anyone connected to us, like you,” he added, his voice taut.
“We’re both okay. Don’t think about what might have been. This was one disaster we managed to avert. I’m really glad I was here for you,” she said.
She offered him a hand up.
Jake took it, but, as he pulled himself up, Annie slid on the loose straw and tumbled down, landing on her knees in front of him.
“I’m sorry, Annie. It’s my fault,” he said quickly. “My weight was too much for you. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. The ground is as soft as...well,
a bed of straw. It wasn’t your fault at all,” she said, feeling foolish. “I slipped, plain and simple,” she said, scooting back to make some room between them. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.
His expression gentled, though his eyes burned with an intensity that left her breathless. “Annie, how do I touch you the way you’ve touched me? You already have my heart,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “It’s yours to take—or break. How do I make you feel what I do?”
Everything feminine in her responded to him. “You already have,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“Then surrender,” he murmured, narrowing the small gap between them.
“We shouldn’t,” she said, her voice trembling.
“No, we shouldn’t. But we will. We have to.”
His head dipped down and he took her mouth in a kiss so tender and so deep, all her resistance and logic vanished. She moaned his name, desperately needing the closeness and intimacy he was offering her.
Slipping her hands beneath his sweater, she caressed his smooth, bronzed chest. He was all masculine hardness and sinewy strength. His tattered breathing, his groans...all fueled her own growing passion. He needed her, and she needed him. Nothing else mattered now.
Primitive fires danced along her spine, giving her courage. She tugged at his sweater, pulling it away from him, but as she tried to unfasten his belt, she began to tremble.
He took her hands in his own and kissed them, then moved back and stripped off his clothing, allowing her to see him as he was. Her eyes were dark and heavy with passion as she looked at him, her gaze branding every inch of him. She was ready to become his and everything male in him knew it. With infinite tenderness, he undressed her, baring her until nothing stood between them.
Skin against skin, she surrendered to the love she could no longer deny. As the stars filled the skies outside, the heat of passion encircled them in safety and warmth. He rained kisses down her neck, loving the way she melted against him.