Pulling into the circular driveway, she waved at Bella by the front door. Telling herself she could make it through the next few hours, she got out of the car and walked up the steps.
“Hey you, I’m so glad you’ve agreed to do this. I think I’m more excited about seeing my recipes in the newspaper than knowing they’ll boost beef sales in the county.” Bella hugged her, then grabbed her hand and headed for the den.
Jordan stopped at the doorway, feeling as though she were about to step into a jungle instead of a living room. Like the entertainment room, the den was teeming with big game trophies; every wild animal known to man seemed to be glaring at her from all four walls of the massive room.
“Pretty impressive?”
The voice drew her attention from the mounted animals, and she turned to face Lucas Santana. “Obviously, you’re a big hunter.”
“Used to be,” he said. “Since I messed up my knee, the only hunting I’m able to do now is sitting in here looking at these guys and trying to remember what it felt like.” He pointed to the walls. “Bagged every one of these myself, most of them right here on my own land. Not that polar bear over there, of course.” He pointed to the center of the room, where a beautiful white rug covered the floor in front of the fireplace. “That one came from Alaska. Got it from a buddy of mine.”
“To each his own,” Jordan said. “I prefer to see these beautiful creatures running wild in their natural habitat, not on a wall.”
“Lucas didn’t tell me you were an animal rights acti-vist.”
For the first time Jordan noticed the man sitting in one of the two chairs by a fire burning so briskly she felt the heat across the room.
He eased out of the chair and walked over to where she stood. “Bobby Carvella. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, offering his hand.
“Bobby was Rusty’s right-hand man,” Lucas said. “Now he’s mine. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet the people responsible for bringing Santana beef to the public since you’ll be writing about it.” His eyes turned mischievous. “And did I mention he’s single?”
Smiling, she reached for Bobby’s hand, thinking everyone and their mother must be in on the plot to hook her up.
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.”
Making sure she sat as far away from Lucas as possible, Jordan settled next to Bella on the couch. She looked up just as a petite Hispanic woman entered the room with a tray of drinks. “Looks yummy. Thanks.”
“I did a little research and found out you liked margaritas,” Bella said, breaking into a grin. “Thought I’d introduce you to a wonderful drink Rusty’s mother, Maria, used to make for us whenever we had company. Margarita Swirls. The homemade sangria is what makes them so good. That’s also Maria’s recipe.” She reached up and took a glass from the tray. “Thank you, Lily.”
At the mention of Rusty’s mother, Jordan straightened in the chair. “How long did Maria work here?”
“Nearly forty years,” Lucas said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. “She was like family to me. Hell, except for the year or so when she went back to Mexico, I saw her everyday.”
“And what about Diego? Did he work here, too?” Jordan remembered what Farley Williams had told her about Lucas and Diego having a falling out.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “At one time. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” she lied. “I thought I heard someone mention that at Rusty’s memorial.”
The old man sighed. “One day Diego strolled into my office, threw his keys to the barn on the table, and told me literally to go screw myself. I never could figure out what made him so angry that he would leave a well-paying job for one that paid only a third as much as a night watchman—”
“So how do you like the drink, Jordan?” Bella interrupted, clearly bored with the conversation.
Jordan took a sip and licked her lips. Bella was right. From now on, Margarita Swirls would be her drink of choice. She wondered if her favorite karaoke bar in Connor knew how to make them. “These are delicious. I’ll have to tell Maria how much I enjoyed them.”
“You talk to Maria?” Bella asked, wrinkling her forehead.
Jordan debated whether to share her suspicions about Maria and her husband with these people, then decided it was best to keep that to herself. She had no proof Diego Morales was hurting his wife—or worse, trying to kill her, and she’d sound foolish if she mentioned it. It was probably crazy even thinking that, especially after Brenda Sue had been so emphatic about how devoted Diego was to his wife.
“Jordan, I asked if you talk with Maria often,” Bella repeated.
“Not really. I just feel so sorry for her, losing her son and all. I thought I would visit her and take some flowers.”
“Good idea,” Lucas said. “She was a wonderful mother to that boy from the day she brought him back from Guadalajara.”
“Rusty was born in Mexico?”
“Yeah,” Lucas said, nodding. “Maria and Diego were down there taking care of her sister. Gia—that was her sister’s name—had some kind of terminal illness. Since their parents had been killed in a car crash several years before that, Maria was the only relative Gia had. Even when Maria got pregnant, she had no choice but to stay and take care of her sister.” He paused to reach for the Scotch and water Lily was holding out to him.
“Anyway, after Gia died, Maria and Diego came back to Texas with the baby, and she worked here all those years until she had her hip surgery. I can still see Rusty running around with his Matchbox cars. He loved those stupid things.”
“Enough talk about Maria,” Bella interrupted. “Lily has lunch ready. She fixed my famous Beef Stroganoff recipe, and I can’t wait for you to taste it, Jordan.”
Jordan smiled, noticing the way Bella seemed to be the one in charge, as well as the gracious hostess. Clearly, her role at Santana Circle went way beyond personal assistant. And she left no doubt her relationship with Lucas was more intimate than simply keeping track of his records.
They all stood and followed Bella to the dining room where an elegant Southwest table with inlaid marble was set with yellow and brown stoneware. In the center a beautiful flower arrangement of large yellow daisies and orange-tipped roses complemented the décor.
“Aren’t they lovely?” Bella said when she caught Jordan staring at them. “I get them fresh every week from a woman who has her own greenhouse.”
“Are you talking about Karen Whitley?” Jordan asked, recognizing the large daisies.
Bella turned sharply. “You obviously get around, Jordan. First, I find out that you know Maria, and now you tell me you’ve seen Karen’s flowers. I thought they were my own special secret.”
Jordan laughed. “Flowers as pretty as Karen’s can’t stay a secret for very long. She sent me home with a huge bouquet a few days ago when I had lunch with Brenda Sue Taylor. They lasted longer than any flowers I’ve ever had.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you know Brenda Sue, but I will tell you that the beef you’re about to eat came from her ranch,” Lucas chimed in.
“It’s Wagyu?”
“Now you’re scaring me,” he said, narrowing his eyes and studying her. “For a girl who doesn’t like beef, you sure know a lot about the stuff.”
“My brother’s told me more than I’ll ever want to know about the beef business. I can’t wait to tell him I’ve tasted Wagyu.”
“Speaking of your brother, has he had any luck finding the thieves yet?” Bella asked.
“Not yet, but he has a few new leads.”
“Anything you can tell us about?” Lucas asked.
Jordan shook her head. “I’m the last person he’d share that kind of information with.”
Bella laughed. “I understand completely. I have a brother, too. I’ll send you home with the leftovers, and maybe that will motivate him to get aggressive with the investigation. Marcus Taylor told me he’s losing a few of his herd every month.”
“Brenda Sue mentioned
it. That’s awful,” Jordan said.
Smiling up at Bobby when he pulled out her chair, she got her first up-close look at the man who had taken over Rusty’s job at the ranch. Although he wasn’t as good-looking as Rusty, “tall,” “dark,” and “rugged” were three words that came to mind when she stole another look.
Bobby seemed a touch uncomfortable in this social setting, fidgeting with his napkin and glaring at the silverware as if debating which fork to use first. Jordan guessed a burger and a long cold one in the bunkhouse with his buddies was more his speed than lunch at the main house with the boss.
Welcome to the club, she thought, feeling a kind of camaraderie with him.
Lily began serving, starting with something she called Layered Salad. Had it been the only dish offered, Jordan would have been quite satisfied. She made a mental note to ask Bella for that recipe, too. Next came the Beef Stroganoff that Bella had bragged about.
After her second helping, Jordan finally put down her fork. “I can’t eat another bite, Bella. My compliments to your cook. This is the first time I’ve ever eaten stroganoff, and I’m afraid I made a pig of myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s the first time you’ve ever eaten it made with Wagyu steak. It’s extravagant, I know, but we wanted you to taste the good stuff as well as the less expensive cuts of beef, so you could talk about using both to your readers,” Bella explained.
“It surprises me how you maintain that great figure eating the way you do.” Lucas tilted his head and studied Jordan with a sleazy grin on his face.
The afternoon had gone so well, Jordan had almost forgotten how easily Santana could make her long for a hot shower. That last remark reminded her again why she was grateful to be sitting between Bella and Bobby Carvella.
“Hope you saved room for sweets,” Bella said, a touch of annoyance in her voice. “Because Lily fixed a dessert to die for.”
“I’ll try a small helping,” Jordan said, wondering why a woman like Bella allowed Lucas to get away with his flirtatious behavior. It had to embarrass her.
A small bowl turned into a bigger second one, and by the time she was in her car driving back into town, her stomach was about to burst, and she wished she’d worn bigger jeans. The day had turned out to be surprisingly pleasant, despite Lucas’s overt flirting, especially after a few drinks. She was thankful he’d managed to keep his wandering hands to himself.
Much to her surprise, the stroganoff made with the Wagyu beef was all it was cracked up to be, and she couldn’t wait to tell Danny about it. As promised, Bella had packed up what little was left and sent it home with her.
Earlier, when Bella asked about Danny’s investigation, Jordan hadn’t shared the fact that Rusty had been poisoned. She wondered if they’d heard about the autopsy report or the plan to bring in a toxicology expert. If they had, they didn’t show it.
She speculated on how they would react when they did find out. Would their attitude toward her change if they suspected she might have poisoned him? And what if she told them there was a good possibility their friend Cooper could have had something to do with Rusty’s death?
She’d been driving herself crazy thinking about this ever since her visit to Cooper’s warehouse the other night. If what Danny told her about Rusty was true, that he was involved somehow with cattle rustling, there might be a whole lot of reasons for a person wanting to see him dead. Maybe a ranch owner who was fed up with losing thousands of dollars in stolen livestock decided to take justice into his own hands. Or maybe someone who’d conspired with Rusty to steal the cattle decided it would be beneficial if he was out of the picture.
Someone like Bobby Carvella, who was now top dog on Santana’s ranch.
CHAPTER 11
As expected, the response to Bella’s recipes was phenomenal, and once again, Jordan had been summoned to Egan’s office. This time he wanted to gloat and remind her how right he’d been about her Sunday dinners with Lucas and Bella being beneficial to her column. If he hadn’t been so comical, hitching his bushy eyebrows up and down after making her admit it, she would have been annoyed.
But she had to agree it hadn’t been too bad. Watching Danny’s expression when she’d casually mentioned he was eating stroganoff made with Wagyu was also a plus. He’d nearly choked when she’d told him, since it was probably the only time he’d ever get to try the expensive beef.
Given the beef’s hundred-dollars-a-pound market value, it was definitely her last time, too. Bella had already announced that next Sunday’s dinner would be something with a cheaper cut of beef, sending a message to the average Ranchero family that you didn’t have to pay a lot of money for good dinners.
Jordan looked up as Sandy Johnson approached her desk and waved. The plan was for Lola to go with them to Sandy’s grandfather’s house tonight, do a quick séance, and be home before eleven, which worked for Jordan. Although she didn’t completely buy into the whole ghost thing, she had no desire to be in that house after midnight.
“I’m kind of nervous about tonight.”
“Me too, but Lola’s an amazing medium.” She tapped her fingertips on the desk, relieved Sandy didn’t know her well enough to realize this was something she did when she lied.
She had no idea if Lola was able to converse with ghosts or not, but she herself was a skeptic of all things psychic. Granted, some of the proclaimed spirit whisperers were gifted with incredible skills of observation, but talking to dead people?
No way!
She was reminded of one of her favorite TV shows, in which the main character had used these same abilities to scam people before becoming a police consultant to help solve crimes. Just when you thought he might really be psychic, he’d explain how he’d discovered the truth, much like a magician who reveals the “tricks” of his magic. Most of the clues came from his knowledge of body language.
When Jordan had first approached Lola for help with this, the older woman had been hesitant, saying she’d never claimed to be a true psychic. Her business was reading tarot cards and the occasional crystal ball, if the price was right. Lola had agreed to give it a shot only after Jordan reminded her that Sandy was about to lose her grandfather’s house.
Jordan confirmed plans to pick up Sandy at seven. It would already be dusk, the perfect time for confronting ghosts. Though she hated that Lola would have to deceive Sandy to make her believe she was really talking to ghosts, the end result was worth a white lie—along with a little smoke and mirrors.
On the way home, she stopped at Burger Hut to pick up dinner for her and her brother. Thursday was her night to cook, and Burger Hut had a buy-one-get-one-half-off sale. Danny was sitting at the kitchen table hunched over a slew of papers when she opened the door.
Glancing up, he wrinkled his nose. “Burgers again?”
“Unless you can whip up a couple of Chicken Cordon Bleus,” she retorted, a little annoyed.
Like he ever mixed up the menu. Since he was almost as broke as she was—thanks to the hefty monthly payment on his new pickup—his offering was usually a five-dollar pizza from the Pizza Palace when it was his turn to cook.
“Smart-ass! You don’t even know what that chicken-corded-whatever is.”
“For your information, I do know. I did an Internet search on fancy chicken dishes a few weeks ago for a recipe to use in my column.”
“That doesn’t count.” He gathered up the papers and sauntered over to the fridge. “Diet Pepsi or beer?”
“Diet Pepsi, please. You might want to take it easy on the alcohol yourself, bro.” Jordan pointed to the three empty bottles on the counter.
“Who died and made you the beer police?”
She ignored him and sat down. Opening the bag, she pulled out a burger and half-empty bag of fries, wondering if anyone ever made it home with a full bag.
Danny sat down opposite her and shoved the Diet Pepsi her way. He made a point to set his beer bottle down on the table hard enough to get her attention, while his narrowed eyes d
ared her to make a comment.
Knowing he was trying to provoke her, something he always did when he drank, she snickered to herself. “So what were all those papers?” she asked, instead of taking the bait.
“Rusty’s autopsy report and details on the latest theft out at the Lazy C Ranch in Collin County.”
“How many did they get this time?”
“Eight. We have no clue if they stole them all at once or just a few at a time,” he said, shaking his head. “If I don’t make some progress with this soon, I might have to start updating my résumé.”
“Is it that bad?” she asked between bites. “I told Santana you had some new leads.”
“You lied,” he answered, draining the beer bottle and sprinting to the fridge for another. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out how they can make something as big as a cow disappear without a trace. We’re checking every cattle auction held in the state of Texas, as well as the neighboring states, on a daily basis. They’ve got to be sending them across the border, but we haven’t seen any stolen livestock showing up at the checkpoints.”
“Is it possible the owners are lying about the stolen cattle? If they have insurance on their herds, which I’m sure they do, wouldn’t it be to their advantage to collect the insurance money while the beef market is so depressed? Maybe get their money back on a dead or sick animal? I’m guessing no one goes out to the ranches to count cows.” She got up, gathered her dinner wrappings, and took them to the trash can.
“That might make for a great Law and Order episode, Jordan, but it doesn’t hold water in this case. I’ve interviewed those ranchers about the thefts, and I can tell you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere in the county when they find the culprits.” He grinned. “There are some very pissed-off cowboys out there.”
“I’m just saying it’s something to think about.” She headed to the bedroom just as the front door opened and Victor barged in.
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