“I’ll take care of her,” he told the female EMT with a smile.
“Thanks,” she said. “She’ll need to make arrangements....”
“I’ll handle it.”
“We’ve notified the authorities,” the EMT added. “The sheriff’s department and the coroner should arrive shortly.” The EMTs left, the ambulance silent and grim now, instead of alive with light and sound, as when it had arrived.
Michelle drank in the scent that clung to Gabriel, the smells of soap and spicy cologne, the leather smell of his jacket. Beneath that, the masculine odor of his skin. She pressed close into his arms and let the tears fall.
* * *
Zack Tallman arrived just behind the coroner. Michelle noted the activity on the front porch, but she didn’t want to see Roberta’s body again. She didn’t go outside.
She heard Gabriel and the lawman and the coroner discussing things, and there was the whirring sound a camera made. She imagined that they were photographing Roberta. She shivered. It was so sudden. They’d just had supper and Roberta went outside because she was hot. And then Roberta was dead. It didn’t seem real, somehow.
A few minutes later, she heard the coroner’s van drive away. Gabriel and Zack Tallman came in together. Zack was handsome, tall, lean and good-looking. His eyes were almost as dark as Gabriel’s, but he looked older than Gabriel did.
“The coroner thinks it was a heart attack,” Zack was saying. “They’ll have to do an autopsy, however. It’s required in cases of sudden death.”
* * *
“Hayes told me that Yancy Dean went back to Florida,” Gabriel said. “He was the only investigator you had, wasn’t he?”
“He was,” Zack said, “so when he resigned, I begged Hayes on my knees for the investigator’s position. It’s a peach of a job.”
“Pays about the same as a senior deputy,” Gabriel mused, tongue in cheek.
“Yes, but I get to go to seminars and talk to forensic anthropologists and entomologists and do hard-core investigative work,” he added. He chuckled. “I’ve been after Yancy’s job forever. Not that he was bad at it—he was great. But his parents needed him in Florida and he was offered his old job back with Dade County SO,” he added, referring to the sheriff’s office.
“Well, it worked out for both of you, then,” Gabriel said.
“Yes.” He sobered as Michelle came into the living room from the kitchen. “Michelle, I’m sorry about your stepmother. I know it must be hard, coming so close on the heels of your father passing.”
“Thanks, Mr. Tallman,” she replied gently. “Yes, it is.” She shook her head. “I still have to talk to the funeral director.”
“I’ll take care of that for you,” Gabriel told her.
“Thanks,” she added.
“Michelle, can you tell me how it happened?” Zack asked her.
“Of course.” She went through the afternoon, ending with Roberta feeling too hot and going out on the porch to cool off.
He stopped her when she mentioned what Roberta had said about Bert and had her repeat Roberta’s last words. He frowned. “I’d like to see her room.”
Michelle led the way. The room was a mess. Roberta never picked anything up, and Michelle hadn’t had time to do any cleaning. She was embarrassed at the way it looked. But Zack wasn’t interested in the clutter. He started going through drawers until he opened the one in the bedside table.
He pulled out his digital camera and shot several photos of the drawer and its contents before he put on a pair of gloves, reached into it and pulled out an oblong case. He dusted the case for fingerprints before he opened it on the table and photographed that, too, along with a small vial of white powder. He turned to Gabriel who exchanged a long look with him.
“That explains a lot,” Zack said. “I’ll take this up to the crime lab in San Antonio and have them run it for us, but I’m pretty sure what it is and where she got it.”
“What is it?” Michelle asked, curious.
“Something evil,” Zack said.
Michelle wasn’t dense. “Drugs,” she said icily. “It’s drugs, isn’t it?”
“Hard narcotics,” Zack agreed.
“That’s why she was so crazy all the time,” Michelle said heavily. “She drank to excess when we lived in San Antonio. Dad got her into treatment and made her quit. I was sure she was okay, because we didn’t have any liquor here. But she had these awful mood swings, and sometimes she hit me...” She bit her lip.
“Well, people under the influence aren’t easy to live with,” Zack replied heavily. “Not at all.”
* * *
Zack sat down with Michelle and Gabriel at the kitchen table and questioned Michelle further about Roberta’s recent routine, including trips to see Bert Sims in San Antonio. Roberta’s last words were telling. He wrote it all down and gave Michelle a form to fill out with all the pertinent information about the past few hours. When she finished, he took it with him.
There was no real crime scene, since Roberta died of what was basically a heart attack brought on by a drug overdose. The coroner’s assistant took photos on the front porch, adding to Zack’s, so there was a record of where Roberta died. But the house wasn’t searched, beyond Zack’s thorough documentation of Roberta’s room.
“Bert Sims may try to come around to see if Roberta had anything left, to remove evidence,” Zack said solemnly to Michelle. “It isn’t safe for you to be here alone.”
“I’ve got that covered,” Gabriel said with a smile. “Nobody’s going to touch her.”
Zack smiled. “I already had that figured out,” he mused, and Gabriel cleared his throat.
“I have a chaperone in mind,” Gabriel replied. “Just so you know.”
Zack patted him on the back. “I figured that out already, too.” He nodded toward Michelle. “Sorry again.”
“Me, too,” Michelle said sadly.
* * *
Michelle made coffee while Gabriel spoke to his sister, Sara, on the phone. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was speaking French. She recognized it, but it was a lot more complicated than, “My brother has a brown suit,” which was about her level of skill in the language.
His voice was low, and urgent. He spoke again, listened, and then spoke once more. “C’est bien,” he concluded, and hung up.
“That was French,” Michelle said.
“Yes.” He sat down at the table and toyed with the thick white mug she’d put in front of him. There was good china, too—Roberta had insisted on it when she and Alan first married. But the mug seemed much more Gabriel’s style than fancy china. She’d put a mug at her place, as well. She had to have coffee in the morning or she couldn’t even get to school.
“This morning everything seemed much less complicated,” she said after she’d poured coffee. He refused cream and sugar, and she smiled. She didn’t take them, either.
“You think you’re going in a straight line, and life puts a curve in the way,” he agreed with a faint smile. “I know you didn’t get along with her. But she was part of your family. It must sting a bit.”
“It does,” she agreed, surprised at his perception. “She was nice to me when she and Daddy were dating,” she added. “Taught me how to cook new things, went shopping with me, taught me about makeup and stuff.” She grimaced. “Not that I ever wear it. I hate the way powder feels on my face, and I don’t like gunking up my eyes and mouth with pasty cosmetics.” She looked at him and saw an odd expression on his face. “That must sound strange....”
He laughed and sipped coffee before he spoke. “Actually, I was thinking how sane it sounded.” He quietly studied her for a couple of moments. “You don’t need makeup. You’re quite pretty enough without it.”
She gaped at him.
“Michelle
, ma belle,” he said in an odd, soft, deep tone, and he smiled.
She went scarlet. She knew her heart was shaking her to death, that he could see it, and she didn’t care. He was simply the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and he thought she was pretty. A stupid smile turned her lips up, elongating the perfect bow shape they made.
“Sorry,” he said gently. “I was thinking out loud, not hitting on you. This is hardly the time.”
“Would you like to schedule a time?” she asked with wide, curious eyes. “Because my education in that department is really sad. This one boy tried to kiss me and missed and almost broke my nose. After that, I didn’t get another date until the junior prom.” She leaned forward. “He was gay and so sweet and shy about it...well, he asked me and told me the reason very honestly. And I said I’d go with him to the prom because of the way my other date had ended. I mean, he wasn’t likely to try to kiss me and break my nose and all... Why are you laughing?”
“Marshmallow,” he accused, and his smile was full of affectionate amusement.
“Well, yes, I guess I am. But he’s such a nice boy. Several of us know about him, but there are these two guys on the football squad that he’s afraid of. They’re always making nasty remarks to him. He thought if he went with a girl to a dance, they might back off.”
“Did they?” he asked, curious.
“Yes, but not because he went with me,” she said. She glowered at the memory. “One of them made a nasty remark to him when we were dancing, next to the refreshment table, and I filled a big glass with punch and threw it in his face.” She grinned. “I got in big trouble until the gym coach was told why I did it. His brother’s gay.” The grin got bigger. “He said next time I should use the whole pitcher.”
He burst out laughing. “Well, your attitude toward modern issues is...unique. This is a very small town,” he explained when her eyebrows went up.
“Oh, I see. You think we treat anybody different like a fungus.” She nodded.
“Not exactly. But we hear things about small towns,” he began.
“No bigots here. Well, except for Chief Grier.”
He blinked. “Your police chief is a bigot?”
She nodded. “He is severely prejudiced against people from other planets. You should just hear him talk about how aliens are going to invade us one day to get their hands on our cows. He thinks they have a milk addiction, and that’s why you hear about cattle mutilations... You’re laughing again.”
He wiped his eyes. She couldn’t know that he rarely laughed. His life had been a series of tragedies. Humor had never been part of it. She made him feel light inside, almost happy.
“I can see the chief’s point,” he managed.
“Cow bigot,” she accused, and he almost fell on the floor.
She wrapped her cold hands around her mug. “I guess I shouldn’t be cracking jokes, with Roberta dead...” Her eyes burned with tears. “I still can’t believe it. Roberta’s gone. She’s gone.” She drew in a breath and sipped coffee. “We’ve done nothing but argue since Daddy died. But she wanted me to hold her hand and she was scared. She said she was sorry.” She looked at him. “She said it was Bert’s fault. Do you think she was delirious?”
“Not really,” he replied quietly.
“Why?”
“That can wait a bit.” He grew somber. “You don’t have any other family?”
She shook her head. She looked around. “But surely I can stay here by myself? I mean, I’m eighteen now...”
He frowned. “I thought you were seventeen.”
She hesitated. Her eyes went to the calendar and she grimaced. “I just turned eighteen. Today is my birthday,” she said. She hadn’t even realized it, she’d been so busy. Tears ran down her cheeks. “What an awful one this is.”
He caught her hand in his and held it tight. “No cousins?”
She shook her head. “I have nobody.”
“Not quite true. You have me,” he said firmly. “And Sara’s on her way down here.”
“Sara. Your sister?”
He nodded.
“She’ll stay with me?” she asked.
He smiled. “Not exactly. “You’ll stay with us, in my house. I won’t risk your reputation by having you move in with just me.”
“But...we’re strangers,” she pointed out.
“No, we’re not,” he said, and he smiled. “I told you about my stepfather. That’s a memory I’ve never shared with anyone. And you won’t mention it to Sara, right?”
“Of course not.” She searched his black eyes. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Who else is there?” he asked.
She searched her mind for a logical answer and couldn’t find one. She had nobody. Her best friend, Amy, had moved to New York City with her parents during the summer. They corresponded, and they were still friends, but Michelle didn’t want to live in New York, even if Amy’s parents, with their five children, were to offer her a home.
“If you’re thinking of the local orphanage,” he said, tongue in cheek, “they draw the line at cow partisans.”
She managed a laugh. “Oh. Okay.”
“You can stay with us until you graduate and start college.”
“I can’t get in until fall semester, even if they accept me,” she began.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Marist College in San Antonio. There’s an excellent journalism program.”
He pulled out his cell phone, punched a few buttons and made a phone call. Michelle listened with stark shock. He was nodding, laughing, talking. Then he thanked the man and hung up.
“You called the governor,” she said, dumbfounded.
“Yes. We were in the same fraternity in college. He’s on the board of trustees at Marist. You’re officially accepted. They’ll send a letter soon.”
“But they don’t have my grades...!”
“They will have, by the time you go. What’s on the agenda for summer?” he continued.
“I... Well, I have a job. Minette Carson hired me for the rest of the school year, after school and on Saturdays. And I’m sure she’ll let me work this summer, so I can save for college.”
“You won’t need to do that.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I drive a truck here because it helps me fit in. But I have an apartment in San Antonio with a garage. In the garage, there’s a brand-new Jaguar XKE.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that give you a hint about my finances?”
She had no idea what an XKE was, but she knew what a Jaguar was. She’d priced them once, just for fun. If it was new...gosh, people could buy houses around here for less, she thought, but she didn’t say it.
“But, I’m a stranger,” she persisted.
“Not for long. I’m going to petition the court to become your temporary legal guardian. Sara will go with us to court. You can wear a dress and look helpless and tragic and in desperate need of assistance.” He pursed his lips. “I know, it will be a stretch, but you can manage it.”
She laughed helplessly.
“Then we’ll get you through school.”
“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” she promised.
He smiled. “No need for that. Just don’t ever write about me,” he added. It sounded facetious, but he didn’t smile when he said it.
“I’d have to make up something in order to do that.” She laughed.
She didn’t know, and he didn’t tell her, that there was more to his life than she’d seen, or would ever see. Sara knew, but he kept his private life exactly that—private.
Just for an instant, he worried about putting her in the line of fire. He had enemies. Dangerous enemies, who wouldn’t hesitate to threaten anyone close to him. Of course, there was Sara, but she’d live
d in Wyoming for the past few years, away from him, on a ranch they co-owned. Now he was putting her in jeopardy along with Michelle.
But what could he do? The child had nobody. Now that her idiot stepmother was dead, she was truly on her own. It was dangerous for a young woman to live alone, even in a small community. And there was Roberta’s boyfriend, Bert.
Gabriel knew things about the man that he wasn’t eager to share with Michelle. The man was part of a criminal organization, and he knew Michelle’s habits. He also had a yen for her, if what Michelle had blurted out to him once was true—and he had no indication that she would lie about it. He might decide to come and try his luck with her now that her stepmother was out of the picture. That couldn’t be allowed.
He was surprised by his own affection for Michelle. It wasn’t paternal. She was, of course, far too young for anything heavy, being eighteen to his twenty-four. She was a beauty, kind and generous and sweet. She was the sort of woman he usually ran from. No, strike that, she was no woman. She was still unfledged, a dove without flight feathers. He had to keep his interest hidden. At least, until she was grown up enough that it wouldn’t hurt his conscience to pursue her. Afterward...well, who knew the future?
At the moment, however, his primary concern was to make sure she had whatever she needed to get through high school and, then, through college. Whatever it took.
* * *
Sara called him back. She wouldn’t be able to get a flight to Texas for two days, which meant that Michelle would be on her own at night. Gabriel wasn’t about to leave her, not with Bert Sims still out there. But he couldn’t risk her reputation by having her stay alone with him.
“You don’t want to be alone with me,” Michelle guessed when he mentioned Sara’s dilemma and frowned.
“It wouldn’t look right,” he said. “You have a spotless reputation here. I’m not going to be the first to put a blemish on it.”
She smiled gently. “You’re a very nice man.”
He shrugged. “Character is important, regardless of the mess some people make of theirs in public and brag about it.”
“My dad used to say that civilization rested on the bedrock of morality, and that when morality went, destruction followed,” she recalled.
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