Texas Temptation

by Kathryn Brocato

  “Actually, it’s my sister’s boyfriend’s car,” he said. “They’ve taken off to Acapulco, so I’m babysitting their car and their apartment.”

  Bernard Warren gave the car a last, suspicious stare then disappeared into his office. Tyler told himself he’d better do some counts today, busy or no. He punched the time clock and hurried out to the counter.

  “Reid,” Rich MacKenzie, the experienced counter man greeted him, phone in one hand. He pointed down the long aisles to the rear of the store. “We just got a shipment in. Go see if there are any sunroofs for a ’95 Camaro. Move it, will you?”

  Before Tyler could head to the back, a customer entered, one very familiar to him. Tyler wavered between annoyance and exasperation. He did not need this today.

  “I need to speak to you,” Mason Reid said, fixing a stern glance on his son.

  “Sure,” Tyler said. “Come this way, please. We can talk on the way. As you can see, I’m rather busy, and Rich needs that sunroof now.”

  Mason, to give him credit, gave nothing away, but he stared at the tall shelves loaded with automobile parts they passed through with disbelief.

  “For a man who claims to dislike car engines, you sure seem to have landed on your feet in the middle of every car engine part there is. What’s going on here, Tyler?”

  “It’s a long story, Dad. Keep your voice down. I’m doing a bit of private sleuthing for a friend.”

  “You’re what?”

  Mason’s incredulity would have been comical if Tyler had caught a glimpse of his father’s expression, but they arrived at the rear of the warehouse section of the store where a myriad of wooden boxes stuffed with a hodgepodge of parts sat by the wall. A selection of fancy wheels, including a fine set of expensive mag wheels, rested against the back wall. Tyler sucked in his breath and reached out to turn the wheels so he could examine both sides. Surely, he must be mistaken.

  But he wasn’t. He knelt and turned one of the wheels so that he could view the characteristic nick in the gleaming metal—the nick Daniel had been fighting with the Ford dealership about, up until the day he died.

  “Tyler, what’s going on here?” Mason demanded in low tones.

  Tyler let out his breath on a long sigh and glanced to the side. “It’s a long story, Dad, and I have a feeling it’s just about at an end.”

  He rose to his feet when Bernard Warren, his expression hard and suspicious, approached.

  “What the hell are you doing, Reid?” he snapped, directing a hard stare at Mason.

  Tyler faced him, suddenly furious. “The reason Nathaniel Corrigan couldn’t reconcile the inventory is because you’re integrating stolen car parts into the regular inventory. How long has this been going on?”

  Warren’s face froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re fired, by the way. Farley says he never sent you here. Just what the hell kind of game are you playing?”

  “I think you know exactly what the game is.” Tyler took his father’s arm. “I’m a Certified Public Accountant and a private investigator, and this is my colleague.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. “These parts are stolen parts. If I call the police, I’ll bet there are theft reports on most of these items.” He pointed to the four mag wheels. “Including the wheels off Daniel Challoner’s Mustang. Is that why you had him killed? Because he stumbled on your little scheme? I can prove those wheels are off his car, you know, just as Nathaniel Corrigan can prove the inventory you keep is actually much larger than the inventory you report on paper.”

  He could almost hear Mason’s silent whistle, but the older man otherwise gave no sign that this was news to him. He maintained the same stern expression he had turned on his son earlier.

  Warren’s face whitened slowly. He stared in a horrified way at Daniel’s mag wheels and cursed beneath his breath.

  “Well?” Tyler said through set teeth. “Is that why he was killed? Because he found out about your little fencing operation?”

  “No. No. You’ve got it all wrong,” Warren whispered. He looked gray. “Look. I don’t know anything about Challoner’s death. I hardly even knew the man.”

  “The hell you didn’t!” Tyler bit out. He’d never felt such a cold rage before. The thought of Daniel’s life being cut short to cover up this petty fraud enraged him so much, he never thought of any danger to his own life if Bernard Warren was really a murderer. “If you didn’t kill him, then you know why he was killed.”

  “Look, keep your voice down,” Warren said earnestly. “I can see you’ve got the game all figured out. Let’s go to my office. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. But you’ve got to believe me. This little scheme of Felix’s isn’t worth doing murder over. Whoever killed Daniel Challoner had nothing to do with us.”

  “We’ll be the judge of that,” Tyler said harshly.

  He found it hard to hide his relief. If Felix Farley was responsible for Daniel’s death, there was no reason for anyone to kill Berry.

  That would mean the dark car, the bullets, and the strange urges in his head, not to mention the weird dream of Daniel this morning, were all products of his fevered imagination.

  Berry was right, he thought, as he and his father followed Warren to the office.

  When this was over, he was taking a long vacation.

  • • •

  The vacation began taking form in his mind the whole time he and his father faced Bernard Warren. When Nathaniel Corrigan arrived upon Tyler’s phone call, followed soon after by Felix Farley, he had decided upon a tropical paradise, one where he could gaze on Berry Challoner in a tiny bikini any time he wanted. Daydreams of swimming in the warm Gulf of Mexico waters with Berry, lying in bed with Berry and walking the twilight beaches with her at his side interspersed accounting discussions of inventories and enhanced profits.

  Lawyers for Felix and Bernard Warren arrived, along with representatives of Walter Farley, still very much in command of the Farley Brothers empire. The discussion dragged on, with Tyler alternating between fury and disappointment. Try as he might, he could not quite reconcile the blustering, red-faced Felix Farley, who had dreamed up the current fraud, with the cold-blooded murderer of Daniel Challoner. No doubt Felix was covering up a couple of other frauds that might not be so straightforward.

  Felix’s plan was simple enough. He wanted to replace his older brother as head of Farley Brothers, and he figured the way to do that was to operate the most profitable stores in the chain. His scheme had worked brilliantly for several years, until Walter became curious and decided to launch a personal investigation into the matter, hence the outside audit performed by Nathaniel Corrigan.

  Oddly, no one seemed to question Tyler’s presence, and no one asked who had placed him in the store.

  Except Mason Reid, who tackled his son the moment the two of them got outside the building some time after four o’clock in the afternoon.

  “Well, that was quite an eye-opener on an unusual aspect of fraud,” Mason said. “So would you mind telling me who talked you into taking on this little job?”

  Tyler laughed. He was free of auto parts for a while, and Berry could leave Farley Brothers now with a good conscience. His spirits shot skyward. Berry would be safe away from Felix and his crooked schemes.

  “Sure, Dad,” he said. “That would be Daniel Challoner’s little sister, Beryl. She’s the ‘bimbo’ currently in residence at my apartment. I’m going to marry her, by the way.”

  “That’s Daniel Challoner’s sister?” To give him credit, Mason’s voice remained reasonably level. “What’s going on here, Tyler?”

  “To make a long story short, Berry thinks Daniel was murdered, so she concocted a scheme to get herself hired as Felix Farley’s secretary so she could snoop through the company books for the secret that got Daniel killed. But she knew nothing about books or accounting, so she came to me.”

  “At least she had that much sense,” Mason said in acerbic tones. “And she uncovered this fraud?”


  “On her first day, she uncovered several good motives for murder.” Tyler drew in a deep breath of relief. “According to her, the place was a hotbed of motives, including unrequited love, probable accounting fraud and nepotism. And she hasn’t even managed to access the company books yet.”

  Mason stared at him. “Tyler, are you sure about this?”

  “Yes, Dad, I am.” Tyler knew his father spoke of his intent to marry Berry. “Believe me, she’s nothing like the woman she tried to convince everyone she was the night you met her.”

  “I see.” Mason stared at the sidewalk ahead. “So you’re now convinced that Felix Farley’s little fraud includes the murder of Daniel Challoner?”

  Hearing the problem stated so bluntly brought back all the doubts Tyler had managed to squelch. “That’s what’s bothering me. I can’t see either Farley or Warren as a murderer. If Daniel had discovered what they were up to, they’d have been more likely to offer him a bribe than kill him.” He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and took out his cell phone. “That’s why I asked Peterson to look into an elderly relative of the Challoners who claimed to have a lot of money.”

  He scrolled down the list of text messages. “Berry says Felix went racing out this morning after a call from Corrigan. That was because I called Corrigan.” He scrolled again. “Well, I’ll be. She got into the bookkeeping system and she’s printing out everything she can.” He laughed, delighted. “That should be some fun for you and me.”

  A moment later, he found the text he’d been awaiting. “Peterson found the great-aunt. She’s still alive, and sure enough, she’s changed her will. Come on, Dad. We’ve got to get to Farley Brothers’ offices before Berry gets off.”

  Mason appeared to realize they were walking down the street away from Farley Brothers, where he had left his car. “Where are you going, son?”

  “I’ve been parking far enough away so that no one saw the Porsche, for all the good it did. Warren saw me this morning, but my education has progressed so well, I was able to spin a good lie about my sister and her boyfriend taking off for the Caribbean and leaving me to babysit the car.” He led the way toward his Porsche. “You’d better ride with me. I don’t like the looks of this at all.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mason complained. “Is there a murderer loose at Farley Brothers or not?”

  “There’s a murderer loose, all right,” Tyler said grimly, “but I’m growing more and more convinced that the murderer is more likely to be interested in Berry than in fraud at Farley Brothers.”

  “What?”

  “I think Berry was right. Whoever killed Daniel meant to kill him.”

  “But … why?” Mason was clearly at sea. “You’re saying someone else, someone outside of Farley Brothers, killed Daniel? For what reason?”

  “It’s one of the oldest motives for murder there is.” Tyler punched the keypad to unlock the car doors. “The possibility of a big inheritance. Let’s go, Dad. I don’t want Berry left alone for a minute.”

  Mason looked as though he had taken a punch to the jaw, but he gamely got in the car and buckled on his seatbelt. “I think I’m beginning to see the attraction of this new life you’re suddenly living. All this fraud and danger.” He watched as his son spun the wheel and accelerated out of the parking lot with the tires squealing a protest. “It’s really quite exhilarating, isn’t it?”

  Chapter 10

  Berry dressed in one of her most eye-catching outfits, a short-skirted, tightly fitted red linen suit with long sleeves that would cover the bruises on her arms. She applied makeup liberally to the bruises on her legs and topped it with a pair of opaque pantyhose before leaving the apartment in the midst of a misty rain. Hopefully, by the time she arrived she would regain her enthusiasm for sneaking into the Farley Brothers computer files.

  She arrived at Farley Brothers offices and had to give herself a pep talk. After all, if Felix tried to come on to her again, she could always quit. In the meantime, the longer she held him off, the more she could snoop through the bookkeeping files and make a few printouts. She settled behind her desk with a sweet smile directed at Concetta and another of equally sweet respect for Felix.

  “Good morning, Miss MacGregor.” Felix’s knowing smile made her toes curl with intense dislike. “Would you bring your pad in, please? I have some instructions for you.”

  Berry knew this was a ploy. Felix used a digital recorder for instructions as well as dictation. He also played golf in the mornings. Why did it have to rain today of all days?

  She sought desperately for an excuse and decided to go for indignation. Mr. Farley, I am not that kind of girl! That might last her until eleven, when Nathaniel Corrigan had scheduled an appointment with Felix. She fully expected Felix to find urgent business elsewhere shortly before eleven.

  The telephone buzzed discretely. Berry lifted the receiver, praying for succor. “Mr. Farley’s office.”

  “Nathanial Corrigan here. Is this Miss MacGregor?” The accountant sounded both pleased and excited. “I’ve just gotten a call from a fellow—don’t know who he is, but he says he’s an accountant and knows you—at the Westheimer number two store. He says he’s found the reason for the discrepancies in the inventory counts. I’m going out there right now to check it out.”

  Berry stared blindly at her calendar note of Nathaniel Corrigan’s eleven o’clock appointment. “Yes, Mr. Corrigan. What time shall I tell Mr. Farley to expect you?”

  Corrigan gave a sarcastic laugh. “Tell him I’ll get back to him.”

  “Oh, dear.” Berry’s heart beat rapidly with excitement. She hung up the receiver and put on a distressed look before going to the door of Felix’s office. “That was Mr. Corrigan. He says—” She had to stop and swallow, her mouth had gone so dry. “He says someone called him from the Westheimer number two store claiming to know the reason why there were discrepancies in the inventory figures. Mr. Corrigan is going there now to check it out. He says he’ll get back to you.”

  “What?” Felix’s ruddy complexion turned a peculiar, pasty shade. “He can’t do that.”

  Berry fluttered, her hand at her throat. “Oh, Mr. Farley. What do you think he could mean?”

  Felix uttered several words that didn’t fit the expensive office decor. “Get Warren on the phone. Now.” He slammed both hands, palms down, on his desk.

  Berry obediently scurried back to her desk, tapped in the number and asked for Mr. Warren. She hardly knew whether to faint with gratitude or quiver with excitement.

  “I’m sorry,” a nervous-sounding male voice said. “Mr. Warren isn’t available at the moment.”

  Nothing Berry said got Bernard Warren to the telephone, either then or the six other times both she and Felix tried.

  She could hardly contain her excitement. Clearly, something big was up, but there wasn’t a thing she could do except flutter helplessly every time Felix spoke. Felix marched between her desk and his, alternately cursing and yelling for Concetta, who had apparently gone to a meeting of the sales staff. He and Berry both tried to raise someone at Westheimer number two, and so long as Felix hovered nearby, she couldn’t even shoot a text message to Tyler.

  Felix was red with either fear or fury—Berry couldn’t decide which. “I’m going out there myself, Miss MacGregor. Cancel all my appointments.”

  The moment Felix exited, Berry sent Tyler a concise text message detailing what had happened on her end. In spite of checking her phone every few minutes, Tyler didn’t text her back, but then, if he was involved in whatever was happening at Westheimer number two, she couldn’t expect to hear from him until things settled down.

  Time crept by. Berry typed busily on an unimportant report and tried to keep her fingers off the telephone buttons. At intervals, she tried accessing the bookkeeping files, but they had been password protected. She tried various names and passwords, but nothing worked. She thought on ways of getting Concetta to part with a password and considered ransacking Felix’s desk on her
lunch hour for clues.

  Concetta returned just before noon, so Berry flicked off her computer terminal at precisely eleven-fifty-nine and sauntered toward the door. Concetta disappeared into one of the sales offices, leaving the front desk empty. Berry slipped out, hoping to avoid her notice.

  “Oh!” a woman exclaimed, the moment she stepped out the door. “Mary! What luck. I was so hoping I’d run into you. How about lunch?”

  Berry turned, startled. Cammy Osborne, the secretary from the legal office down the hall, approached. She was a rabbity-looking young woman with white-blond hair and pale blue eyes. Berry thought it unlikely Daniel would have given her the time of day, but who knew? She owed it to herself to find out as soon as possible what the woman knew.

  “Hi, Cammy. I can’t go to lunch today, but thank you.” She intended to spend the entire hour hoping to hear from Tyler. “I’m meeting someone.” She hoped her voice implied she was meeting a lover.

  “Then let’s have a drink together after work. What about it? I’ve got to tell you something really important as soon as possible.” Cammy leaned forward, her pale face twitching and secretive. “I’m afraid someone’s going to ask questions soon. I’d like to get your opinion about what I should do.” She looked portentous. “After all, we’re both outsiders.”

  “Of course.” Berry glanced around swiftly and wondered why Cammy Osborne thought she was an outsider. “Where would you like me to meet you?”

  “How about right here? Then we can walk there together. There’s a bar only half a block away.”

  “Fine. See you here at five.”

  Berry dodged around a corner and left Cammy Osborne behind with a gasp of relief. Something about the woman’s fixed rabbit-like stare and nervous twitching made her uncomfortable.

  She ate a bowl of soup and a few crackers at the first floor delicatessen and tried phoning Tyler. He remained unavailable.

  Big things were up, and Tyler was in on them. She could hardly wait to get off work to find out what he’d discovered. In the meantime, she really, really needed to access those bookkeeping files.