Texas Love Song

by Altonya Washington

  The rumble of laughter between the six men didn’t stop the serious element from creeping back in among them.

  “We were just thanking Khouri for keeping Setha safe during this mess.” Samson let his words trail into silence having noticed the meaningful look placed between his father and Basil Ross.

  “Sam’s right. Thank you, son.” Dan extended his hand for another shake.

  “Khouri Ross! Congrats, man.” Chief of Detectives Brad Crest approached with a big grin.

  “’Preciate it, Brad.” Khouri clutched the man’s hand in a hearty shake. “You’re not leavin’, are you?”

  “Not just yet.” Brad jingled the keys he’d pulled from his khakis. “But duty will be callin’ soon, I’m afraid.”

  “Got anything to do with the murders?” Lugo asked.

  “Nah, ’bout time for my shift, is all. Can enjoy myself a little longer though,” he said with a sly wink.

  “Anything new with the case, Brad?” Basil asked.

  Brad was grim. “Our leads all lead to dead ends. Aside from the vics sharing the same address at one time, we’ve got scratch.” He rubbed his fingers across blondish-brown eyebrows and winced. “Sorry the news isn’t better.”

  “You’re doing your best.”

  “Damn right,” Basil agreed with Dan’s encouraging words to Brad.

  Amid the exchange, Khouri’s eyes narrowed sharply as he watched his father thoughtfully. Eventually, he noticed Samson appeared to be doing the same in relation to his own dad. Tossing back another swig of his drink, Khouri wondered if Sam was asking himself why the men were taking such dismal news so…calmly.

  Chapter 18

  The drinks had flowed abundantly before and during the party. Now that the event was winding down, the flowing hadn’t let up. Setha smiled on her way out of the bathroom stall, thinking how hard laughter and drinking were on the bladder.

  The bathroom had cleared while she was in the stall. Setha appreciated the time alone to collect herself as well as her thoughts.

  She was getting married! Who would have thought that a favor to her brother could have had such an outcome? It was as she’d told her soon-to-be sisters-in-law, she thought she knew most everything there was to know about men. How pleasantly Khouri had surprised her. She couldn’t wait to begin her married life with him.

  Opening her eyes, she closed them again believing too much drink was causing her to see things just then. The smile she wore faded slowly as she focused on the image behind her in the mirror. She couldn’t wait to share her life with Khouri Ross and standing there behind her was the man who meant to prevent that.

  She made no sudden moves, not that she could have without stumbling on her heels thanks to her imbibed state.

  Setha grimaced then on the irony of it all. Why did Carson Arroyo always have to catch her in her best shoes?

  “Why are you here?” she asked, facing him defiantly through the mirror.

  Walking forward, Carson bowed his head while leaning against the bathroom counter. He was thin, but wiry and Setha knew better than most how fast he was. She didn’t dare move. Yet.

  “I think you know what I’m doing here, Miss Melendez.”

  She wouldn’t cower and turned slowly to face him, her defiance building. If she was about to die, the son of a b

  before her would damn well tell her the truth about why.

  “This is revenge for your parents, isn’t it?”

  “You know nothing about my parents!” He could have spat across the room with the force of the venom in his words.

  “I know how your father’s suicide—death,” she rephrased when his small dark eyes narrowed sharply. “I know how hard things got for your family afterward.” She held her chin up. “I know you blame my family for that.”

  “As I said, you know nothing.”

  She frowned in response to his calm demeanor. “If this is about money, my father would see to it that you and your family are cared for. You have my word on that.”

  The man’s calm demeanor vanished. His palm fell upon the marble countertop with a loud thwack. Standing erect then, he advanced on Setha as she stumbled back in retreat.

  “I don’t want the Melendez money! Blood money! Have you ever once wondered about your spoiled childhood, little princess? Ever thought about the people your father made his millions off of?” He smirked when she stumbled again. “Dan Melendez is about to see what it’s like to have a debt he can’t repay.”

  Carson hooked his finger around the bracelet at Setha’s wrist. He jerked her close, his eyes carrying a wildness mirrored by the harsh curl of his lips. Panicked and angry, Setha struck out blindly, but did meet an intended target when it connected with his groin. He fell to his knees, mewling pathetically.

  Awkwardly, and much too slowly, Setha made her way across his form that was crumpled at her feet. She ran for the bathroom door, but stopped to brace her hand along the wall when things began to spin.

  “Come on, Seth.” She forced herself to focus. Turning her head toward the noise, she prayed she was heading in the right direction.

  * * *

  Khouri laughed as loudly as anyone at the bawdy jokes that had gone back and forth at the table full of men. The bawdier the jokes got, the louder the laughter roared. Khouri wiped a tear from his eye and noticed his fiancée in the distance. She was walking—trying to walk—down the corridor leading from the restrooms.

  He smiled, watching her press a hand along the wall to keep her balance. He made a mental note to tease her about it later that night. He was lifting a hand to wave, when he saw her jerked back by the man who had stumbled up behind her.

  “Son of a b,” he breathed, his bright eyes narrowed to slits as he slammed down a fist on the table.

  Everyone silenced.

  “Get Brad,” he told no one in particular and bolted off.

  “Do it,” Samson told Lugo, having witnessed what sent Khouri running. Seconds later, he and Paolo were doing the same.

  Setha chose to use her heels that night instead of kicking them off. She was able to land the tip of one into Carson’s calf when he pulled her down. Her wild kicking paid off. He was forced to release her and she ran. Refusing to get caught out in the alleyway again, she headed down the flight of stairs which led to the basement that served as the storage and kitchen area of the club.

  “Figures,” she breathed, finding the expansive space empty. The dull thud of music was a grim reminder that she was but a hair’s breadth from safety. She needed to make her way back up to it. She remained cautious, keeping a lookout for Carson maneuvering in and out of the shadows. She’d made her way back around to the staircase and was on the third step leading to the main floor. She was stopped before she could reach the fourth step.

  Setha shrieked, prepared to fight again when he released her, pushing her down to the concrete flooring. Setha prepared to scramble, but reconsidered when she saw the gun aimed at her face.

  “You don’t have to do this, Carson.” Her words carried in the vastness of the space.

  “Why?” He sneered, flexing his fingers about the gun handle. “Because it’s all in the past? Smart of you to realize that. It’s in the past which means there’s not a damn thing your daddy can do to give back my father’s pride or my mother’s dignity.”

  “But why?” she blurted in a whisper.

  Carson could have passed his smile off as one of sympathy, were it not for the gun he cocked then. “Because you’re your father’s greatest treasure.”

  A shot went off, the ear-numbing ring of it vibrated through the space.

  Setha waited for blinding pain and oblivion, but it never blossomed. Slowly, she opened her eyes to thin slits. They widened eventually at the sight of Carson Arroyo lying before her in a puddle of his own blood.

 
Setha felt herself jerked up—this time it was Khouri. His arm was banded across her. He kept her sealed tightly next to him, and rained kisses across her cheeks and the back of her neck. Dazedly, she watched Brad Crest kicking aside the gun Carson had carried.

  “She all right?” he asked Khouri.

  “Babe?” he murmured against her ear, squeezing her tighter when he felt her nodding.

  Eventually, Setha’s nods were delivered with more certainty. “Thank you,” she said to Brad, noticing the gun he replaced in his holster. Shivers set in, turning her skin to gooseflesh. Seeking warmth and security, she pitched her face into Khouri’s shirt clutching his arm desperately.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured against her temple while he rocked her, “I’ve got you.”

  * * *

  “And that’s all he said?” Brad was asking while he took Setha’s statement from Raquel’s office at the club.

  “I’m sorry.” She shivered inside the blanket Khouri had wrapped her in. “I wish there was more I could tell—”

  “Shh…now…” Brad waved a hand and eased a black leather-bound notebook into his back pocket. “You did enough.”

  “Amen to that.” Khouri pressed his face into the top of her head.

  * * *

  Avra stood next to her sister’s desk and scraped her thumbnail against her chin. Anyone who knew her would recognize the gesture as a clear sign of worry. She blinked away from Khouri and Setha to find Samson studying her. His obsidian stare was fixed and pensive. Grimacing, she crossed the room kneeling before Setha at the sofa.

  “Me, Rock and Fee’ll be over in the morning to check in on you, all right?”

  Setha rubbed Avra’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Well, that’s what sisters do for each other,” Avra retorted and then winked and moved up to kiss Setha’s cheek. She squeezed Khouri’s shoulder on her way past the sofa and out of the room.

  * * *

  “I’m goin’ straight home,” Avra said. She’d barely gotten down the hall when a hand closed on her arm. She knew it was Sam.

  “Home sounds good,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “That wasn’t an invitation.” She stopped walking and turned to glare.

  His striking features softened under the mild humor. “I’d be very surprised if it were, darlin’.”

  He waved a hand to usher her on. Avra stifled her arguments, accepting the fact that she’d be keeping company with Samson Melendez that night.

  * * *

  Inside the office, Setha was still shivering in her fiancé’s strong unyielding embrace. Khouri lifted her with an effortless display of strength. “Takin’ you home,” he grumbled.

  “You found me.” She stared up at him, her eyes searching his.

  He kissed her mouth. “And I always will.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I love you.”

  She smiled. “You better.”

  Laughter hummed soft and sweet in the midst of the kiss they shared.

  Chapter 19

  One week later…

  The upcoming nuptials between Khouri Adande Ross and Setha Bianna Melendez would be held at Samson Melendez’s grand estate on the outskirts of Houston. Sam had insisted on every event of the wedding being held at his ranch. That included all the planning meetings and dinners.

  Sam would hear no arguments or suggestions for other venues. He grudgingly allowed Setha to stay with her fiancé until the day before the wedding instead of having her move out of her home and in with him. Almost no one questioned the latter, knowing tensions still ran high following Carson Arroyo’s death.

  That afternoon was to be Setha’s bridal shower. Sam, of course, insisted on the party being there at the ranch in spite of the previous arrangements that had been made. He had trucks sent to collect all delivered gifts from Setha’s place and carry them out to his ranch.

  Sam’s overprotective nature, while sweet and beautiful to some, had worn thin with his father. Dan walked into Sam’s study that afternoon to find him handling a phone call to Khouri. Danilo listened while his eldest son confirmed plans to have Setha brought to the ranch for the shower. Dan rapped his knuckles to the open door, the moment the call ended.

  “Pop.” Sam’s greeting was polite but held an absent tone as he scribbled notes to a pad.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dan saw no need wasting time in getting to the point of his visit.

  “Sir?” Sam set down his pen and gave his father a bewildered look.

  Dan spread his hands and strolled slowly into the room. “All is well. There’s peace—why go to all this trouble? You’re acting crazier than the bride.”

  Sam leaned back in his desk chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Somethin’s wrong with me makin’ sure my sister’s safe?”

  “Your sister is safe.” Dan’s pitch-black stare narrowed. “And she has a very capable fiancé to see to her safety otherwise.”

  “I know that.”

  “So?” Dan moved to stand before the desk. “Why are you still on edge?”

  Sam stood. From his height advantage , he watched his father knowingly. “Why don’t you tell me, Papa?”

  “Gentlemen?” Brad Crest knocked on the doorway and then waved. “’Scuse the interruption. Mr. Dan? Your people told me I could find you out here.”

  “What’s up, B?” Sam asked, shifting his gaze back briefly toward his father.

  Brad cleared his throat and jangled keys where they rested in his gray trousers pocket. “There’s been another murder.”

  “Arroyo?” Sam asked, sounding as if he doubted the fact. “Someone he got to before he came after Setha?”

  “Not likely, given the time of death.”

  “Which was?” Sam asked.

  “Sometime between eight and ten last night. Seein’ as how Arroyo’s been dead for a week…”

  “Son of a b…” Sam breathed, shoving at loose papers lying atop his desk.

  “Is it another of my employees, Bradley?” Dan was asking as he stepped closer to the detective.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Brad confirmed, his lips thinning as he nodded. “A Martino Viejo.”

  The heavy breath Dan expelled seemed to fill the room with sound.

  “Pop?” Sam called, watching his father settle in the nearest chair.

  “My God…” Dan bowed his head and shuddered.

  * * *

  “Should I pack this one, miss?”

  Setha took the box the driver referred to. It didn’t look like a gift if the plain brown packaging was any clue. The Kemah address on front brought a radiant smile to her face.

  “Khouri!” Clutching the box to her chest, she raced down the hall to the TV room where he dozed.

  “It’s from Jim Beaumont,” she told her fiancé once she’d shoved him awake.

  “What?” Khouri spoke through a yawn, slowly locking in on the name of the fragrance shop owner.

  “Wake up,” Setha urged, tugging insistently on the mushroom-colored polo shirt that hung outside his denim shorts.

  Khouri sat up on the sofa. “What is it?”

  Setha was already tearing into the box. “For the newlyweds,” she announced, gathering the folds of the lavender-and-midnight-blue lounge dress and settling in Khouri’s lap to read the rest of the card. “‘For the newlyweds, a batch of…Texas Tuffy for the mister—’” She burst into laughter and fell back on the sofa.

  Khouri rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill him,” he vowed, searching the box for his cologne.

  “Wait, there’s one for me….” Setha slapped his wrist. “‘And for the missus, her own unique fragrance…Texas Love Song.’” She beamed and clutched the card to her chest.

&nbs
p; “You can’t kill a man that thoughtful.” She sighed.

  Khouri set aside the box and pulled his fiancée snug against his chest. “I’ve never been a fan of love songs.” He nuzzled her ear.

  Setha curled into him. “And now?” She angled her neck giving him more room to explore.

  He cupped her neck in his palm. “They’re growin’ on me.” He drew her into a throaty kiss. “Jim’s still a dead man,” he growled when his mouth was trailing her jaw.

  She giggled, absolutely content and thoroughly in love. “Well, Mr. Ross, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to put that off ’til later.” She tugged him down with her to the sofa.

  “Much later…”

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781459233669

  Copyright © 2012 by AlTonya Washington

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.