by Joanna Wayne
Meghan scanned the article that Connie had highlighted. A car containing an unidentified woman’s emaciated body had been pulled from a swollen river south of Houston.
“May I keep the article?” Meghan asked.
“If you think it will help.”
“It could.” She passed the newspaper to Durk.
Meghan grew restless as he read it. She pushed her coffee away as strings of seemingly unconnected images began to explode in her mind with dizzying force.
Durk’s voice cut through the chaos. “Meghan, are you all right?”
“I’m dizzy.” Her stomach lurched. “And I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ve upset her,” Connie said. “I’d better go.”
“I think so,” Durk said. “She’ll get back to you.”
Beads of cold sweat trickled down Meghan’s bosom. Her vision blurred. Objects swirled around her.
The next thing Meghan knew Durk was placing her into the passenger seat of his car.
She looked up. His expression was grim and worried.
She swallowed hard. “Did I black out?”
“I’ll say you did. One minute you were fine, the next you were slumped over in your chair.”
“You carried me all the way to the car?”
“It was only a few steps.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m just thankful you’re talking sensibly again.”
“How long was I out?”
“Probably less than a minute, but it seemed a lot longer. You scared me half to death.”
“What happened to Connie?”
“She went home, but she scribbled her phone number on a napkin and stuck it in my pocket while I was carrying you to the car.”
“Good. I’ll call her later—when I can remember her sister’s killer. Right now, I’m just ready to get out of Dallas. How far is it to your ranch?”
“We’re not going to the ranch. We’re going back to the hospital.”
“No way.” She defied the nausea and sat up straight, glaring at him as he crawled into the driver’s seat. “I’m not going back to the hospital.”
“Meghan, you just fainted back there.”
“I was only out for a few seconds and that was because of a dizzy spell. I’m fine now. And I don’t think what just happened was necessarily a bad thing.”
“Then you have a strange way of evaluating events.”
“A dizzy spell is not an event, Durk. It’s a minor side effect. The good thing is that I think my memory is on the verge of a comeback. While you were scanning that newspaper article, images started colliding in my mind like disjointed fragments of my life.”
“Colliding images in your head does not sound like progress to me.”
“It could be—if the images help me remember. Besides, the doctor said I should expect some continued dizziness and nausea.”
“He didn’t mention fainting.”
“He didn’t know the kind of morning I was going to have.”
“Exactly. You were supposed to be resting at the Bent Pine.”
“And I will be, as soon as you get me there.”
“You can rest at the hospital. It’s closer.”
“No one ever rests at a hospital. Look at me, Durk. I’m fine. I had a dizzy spell. That’s all.”
He backed out of the parking spot. “I can’t look at you. I’m driving.”
“Then listen to me. Take me to the ranch. We made a deal. And you said you’re a man of your word. It’s part of the cow creed.”
“The cowboy creed. And so is protecting animals, children and women who are too stubborn to listen to reason.”
“I promise I’ll spend the rest of the day relaxing. That’s exactly what they’d have me do at the hospital except that every time I fell asleep someone would come in to see what I wanted for lunch or tell me to track the movement of their finger or poke me or want to change my bed or—”
“I get the picture. And speaking of lunch, you haven’t
had any. You could probably use some food in your stomach.”
She wasn’t quite that fine. “Why don’t we wait until we’re out of the city traffic?”
“If we’re going to do that, we may as well have lunch at the ranch.”
“I don’t want to cause extra work for anyone.”
“You have a lot to learn about life at the Bent Pine.”
“I guess you have a full staff of servants.”
“Oh, yeah. You don’t even have to breathe for yourself if you don’t want to bother.”
That might be an exaggeration, but she could well imagine that none of the Lambert women ever stepped into the kitchen unless it was to approve a menu.
“I’ll have nothing to do at the ranch but rest and recuperate in the lap of luxury.”
“But you won’t. You’ll do nothing but fret over killers and try to figure out a way to do Detective Smart’s job for him.”
“That’s my job, the same as running an oil company is yours. You know you don’t leave the problems and complications behind you every day at five.”
“I might if I was recovering from a concussion. But a deal is a deal. I’m willing to go straight to the ranch if you promise me that you’ll spend the remainder of the day resting.”
“Rest doesn’t mean staying in bed all day.”
“Suit yourself, but if you pass out again, I’m calling Dr. Levy. If he says you need to return to the hospital, you will—if I have to hog-tie you and drag you back myself.”
She’d like to see him try it. But not now. She really was tired and still a bit nauseous. Still, she had to level with him. Once she did, he might no longer want her at his family ranch.
“I’m almost certain that the madman who tortured and killed Roxanne is the same man who attacked me and killed Ben. I must have been close to having the evidence I needed to have him arrested and he somehow found out I was just luring him into a trap.”
“That explains a few things,” Durk said. “Like why he didn’t shoot you in the head the way he did Ben. He had other plans for you.”
“But why kill Ben with my gun? If he’d planned to kill him all along, he must have had his own weapon.”
“Maybe he liked the irony.”
“What irony?”
“That by not going to the police with your evidence sooner, by limiting all information suggesting him as a prime suspect to the private files shared only by you and Ben, you provided the motive for him to kill Ben.”
“I was obviously still acquiring evidence necessary for an arrest and a conviction.”
“And you don’t like sharing the credit for that with cops.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Are you going to tell Detective Smart about your conversation with Connie Latimer?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I rest my case. But it’s your life. I’m just here as a friend.”
His insinuations were troubling, but that didn’t mean he was right. She closed her eyes. She was too tired to deal with this now.
Next stop: Lambert World.
And a week with a man who could thrill her with his touch or heap on recriminations with his words.
And somewhere beyond the barbed fences of Bent Pine Ranch was a killer whose freedom depended on her not remembering his name.
* * *
DURK STOOD NEAR THE back of his low-slung sports car, his phone to his ear while the tank filled with fuel. “We should be there in about thirty minutes,” he said when his mother finally answered.
“You told me that an hour ago. What delayed you?”
“It’s a long story, but it’s been a busier morning than I’d expected.”
“Well, at least you’re on your way now. I freshened the guest suite and Alexis stopped at the florist in Oak Grove when she took Tommy in for a haircut. She found the most beautiful fall blossoms. I just finished arranging them. They’ll really brighten the guest room.”
“I’m sure Meghan will appreciate that.”
“Alexis is especially excited about seeing Meghan again. Apparently they got to know each other pretty well while Meghan was working with her and Tague.”
“I’m sure they’ll have plenty of time to hang out and chat but maybe not today. Meghan is going to need lots of rest.”
“I’ll do what I can to see that she has peace and quiet.”
“About that. I’d like to hire around-the-clock private nurses for a couple of days.”
“That won’t be a problem. The Carsons’ oldest daughter manages a home-duty private nurse register. When I called her about help with Sybil, she recommended a young RN who is willing to stay here at the ranch.”
Two patients. He could kick himself for forgetting to even ask about his aunt. That’s how worried Meghan had him. “How is Aunt Sybil?”
“A bit demanding. I think she’s reveling in the attention. But she’s responding well to the medication. Her breathing is easier and her appetite is almost back to normal.”
“Speaking of appetites, neither Meghan nor I have had lunch. Do you—”
“I’ll take care of it, don’t you fret.” He knew his mom would. “You know, Durk, this caretaker side of you is one I’ve never seen before. I like it.”
“Don’t get too used to it. When Meghan’s memory returns, she’s on her own.”
“Still, Meghan must be a very special woman. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Don’t make any bonds you can’t break. She’s here for a week or less. Then it’s adios.”
“We’ll see.”
But Durk had already seen. Meghan turned him on. There was no doubt about that. But no matter how hot the lust and desire, he would not let himself get romantically involved with her again.
He was absolutely crazy about her, but nothing had changed. He had no reason to believe it ever would.
* * *
MEGHAN WOKE TO the sound of a slamming car door. She stretched, opened her eyes and stared in amazement at the sprawling ranch house.
It vaguely resembled the picture of the house she’d seen on the internet. The gables were there. So were the multiple chimneys and the wide front porch.
But the house that had been featured in a Texas magazine had looked far more elegant and pretentious. There had been giant gaslights leading to the house and a garden in front that looked as if it had jumped from a Monet painting. Even the columns had looked larger and far more impressive in the photograph.
Durk appeared and opened her car door. The straps from her two pieces of luggage were slung across his shoulder. “Welcome to the Bent Pine Ranch.”
She slipped her feet back into the high heels she’d kicked out of earlier and stepped out of the car. “Is this where you live?”
“It is whenever I can escape the city. Just breathe that good, clean air—mixed with cow manure, of course. Had you been awake for the quarter of a mile, you would have seen some of the finest Angus cattle in Texas.”
She was still dumbstruck by the house. There wasn’t one indication that the owners were one of the richest families in Texas.
“Is this really where your family lives?”
“Yep. This is home. See that big oak tree over by the fence?” He pointed her in the right direction.
“What about it?”
“I got my first broken leg falling out of it when it was five.”
“You say that like you’ve had lots of broken legs.”
“Only two. That’s all the legs I have.” He chuckled. “But I’ve broken one of them twice.”
“Falling from trees?”
“C’mon, I’m more creative than that. I broke the other leg falling off a horse when I was six. After that I had no intention of ever riding again.”
“But you did?”
“The first day the doctor cleared me to ride Dad put me back in the saddle.”
“Do you still ride?”
“Every time I come to the ranch. I just bought a new Appaloosa. I’ll show him to you tomorrow.”
“I’d like that. How did you break your leg the other time?”
“I fell out of the tree house while I was trying to nail up a no trespassing sign to keep Tague out.”
She laughed.
“That sounded good,” Durk said.
“What?”
“You. I’d forgotten what a nice laugh you have. Not stifled. Just open and natural, like you mean it.”
“Thanks.” So he did like something about her.
“I should warn you about my family before we go inside.”
She gritted her teeth and waited. “Go on.”
“They’ll talk your ears off, sometimes all of them at once. They’ll ask questions about our friendship, especially my mother. You don’t have to answer them.”
“How would I? I don’t remember having ever met you before you showed up in my hospital room.”
“Good answer.”
“Will I like your mother?”
“If you don’t, you’ll be the first person I ever introduced to her that didn’t. She’ll love you.”
Meghan adjusted her knit cap, keeping it at a jaunty angle. “Bruises, bandages, shaved head and all?”
“Even better. She’s a champion of the underdog. Not that you’re a dog,” he teased, “but you do look as if you got the worst end of a bitch fight.”
Meghan followed Durk up the steps to the wide, welcoming front porch with its display of fresh pumpkins and pots of blooming mums. It was a million times more inviting than the picture on the internet.
“Are you sure I’ve never been here before?”
“I’m positive. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Except that she had the crazy feeling that she was coming home.
Chapter Twelve
The timing for dumping the body couldn’t have been worse. Meghan Sinclair had left him no options. If she regained her memory and went to the local police with her allegations, they’d descend on his property like circling vultures. The basement would be the first place they looked.
If they descended the rickety stairs to his haven now they’d find nothing but empty paint cans, chipped two-by-fours, a gnarled rope, a toolbox and a wobbly stepladder. It would look just like every other basement in the area.
That wasn’t the ultimate resolution but it would buy him time. He had to come up with a better plan. If not, he knew exactly what to do with the rope and the wobbly stepladder. It would take guts, but he had no doubts that he could do it.
He hoped it didn’t come to that. He’d much prefer to silence Meghan. She was sucking up to Durk Lambert now, but he wouldn’t stay with a lowly P.I. for long. Men with his kind of money never did.
Her day would come. It was just a matter of time.
Chapter Thirteen
Durk stooped and kissed his mother on the cheek.
Her face lit up as if he’d handed her the moon. “It’s good to have you home, son.”
“It’s good to be here.” He put a hand on the small of Meghan’s back. “This is Meghan Sinclair. Meghan, this is my mom, Carolina.”
Carolina put out her hand and clasped Meghan’s in more of a gesture of warmth than an actual handshake. “I’m so glad Durk brought you with him. He’s told me some of what you’ve been going through, and it makes me shudder just to think about it. I hope being here will make it easier for you.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“Durk, why don’t you take Meghan’s bags to the guest room while I show her around the common areas so that she can make herself at home?”
“You got it, but don’t wear her out with questions, Mom. She needs rest.”
“No interrogation,” Carolina promised. “Other than to ask what she’d like to drink.”
“I’d love a glass of iced tea,” Meghan said as she followed Carolina to the back of the house.
“I hope you like vegetable beef soup.”
“Soup sounds terrific.
” And she was getting hungry now that her earlier bout with nausea had passed.
“Most of the vegetables were grown in our garden last summer and then frozen. And, of course, the beef is from Bent Pine cattle. It’s the best beef money can buy. My sons Tague and Damien will point that out to you before you leave—several times.”
“Durk told me that I worked a case for Tague and Alexis recently. He thinks I may have also met Damien and Emma briefly at the hunting camp where Damien, Alexis and her son were staying.”
“You did. I told Alexis and Emma that you were coming, and they can’t wait to see you. They’re both out running errands this afternoon, but they’ll be home soon.”
“I’ll try to get some rest before they arrive so I’ll be decent company.”
“You can meet the rest of the family later, as well, but only when you’re ready. We can be a bit overwhelming even for people who aren’t recuperating.”
Meghan stood at the end of a huge farmhouse kitchen table while Carolina filled three glasses with ice. Her first impression of the interior of the Lambert house was that it was the most welcoming and comfortable house she’d ever been in.
Her first impression of Carolina Lambert was that she was absolutely stunning. She walked with a grace that movie stars would have envied. Her smile lit up a room. Her style was simple, classic and impeccable. She was probably somewhere in her early fifties, but she was in great shape and had almost no wrinkles.
Her creased jeans were neither too loose nor too tight, but looked as if they’d been tailored personally for Carolina. Her white cotton shirt was tucked in at the waist and topped with a simple black leather belt. She wore stylish ankle boots and a pair of gold earrings. Her wedding ring set was also gold. The single diamond that adorned it was at least three carats.
But it was the effect she had on Meghan that made the biggest impact. They’d met only minutes ago, but already Meghan felt as if they were old friends.
Not that anyone could actually qualify as an old friend in her mind until the amnesia ran its course.
Carolina poured the tea from an antique cut glass pitcher. She set one of the glasses next to Meghan and proceeded to ladle soup that had been simmering on the range into two cobalt-colored bowls.