Love Under Two Responders [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “Fuck.” Andrew shook his head. He looked over at his brother. “I used to be able to handle these guys with one craftily prepared line of smart-ass. If they’re going to be lobbing them back, I better build my repertoire.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Grant said. “Personally, this is a proud moment for me. It’s like my baby brothers finally got the keys to the car.”

  “Adam and Jake just pulled up,” Ed said.

  “Crap, do they have bugs planted in here to know we’re picking on the geeks?” Andrew asked.

  Ed opened the door for the Kendalls. Adam nodded to Grant and Andrew then looked from Warren to Ed. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “Almost completely better,” Ed said. “Any word from the state police? It’s been on my mind almost constantly. If there’s someone after me, I don’t want anyone I love getting in the gunman’s sights.”

  “That’s why we’re here. To give you an update on the investigation.”

  “Come on into the kitchen,” Grant said. “You can update all four of us.”

  “Where are the newbies?” Adam looked around the kitchen before picking the chair at the end of the table.

  “This is their day off,” Grant said. “They’re both moving into town today.”

  “Got one of them set up on the ground floor of the four-plex Susan owns over on Elm Street,” Jake said. “The other’s in the apartment building.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We’re in the midst of a bit of a boom, population-wise—over and above the babies that we’ve had born in the last few months.”

  Warren smiled. “From what I understand, there’re more Benedicts coming to town.”

  Jake nodded. “Cord and Jackson will be staying in town while they give Chase and Brian a hand out at the north ranch.”

  Warren recalled that Grandma Kate had announced at the Private Dick’s engagement party that the grandsons of Emerson Benedict, one of James, Jacob and Rosie’s sons, were coming to town. It had been a surprise for those two detectives to discover that the NFL’s “Wonder Twins” were members of the family.

  “The cowboys are getting a pair of seasoned ranch hands,” Grant said. “Those quarterbacks were raised on their family’s ranch in Montana.”

  “You stayed with them, didn’t you? When you were taking that specialized smoke jumper training?” Adam asked.

  “No,” Grant shook his head. “We stayed on the base while we were in training. But we were able to visit, and spent the weekends between training sessions with them. Cord and Jackson were both only there for a couple of days before heading out to football training camp. Mostly, we got to know their parents, and their brothers Barry and Jesse, and their sister Addison. Veronica, their other sister, doesn’t live at the ranch anymore. We likely wouldn’t have met her at all except we had lunch with her, and Cord and Jackson. She’s a published author, and has an apartment in Billings.”

  Andrew grinned. “Her brother Jesse thought she was pretty busy, and had slipped into the role of being a kind of hermit. Then Barry piped up that she was an artiste, unconcerned with inconvenient realities like family and friends and social niceties. As I recall there was a great deal of snorting in agreement around the dinner table.”

  “Sounds like the usual kind of Benedict teasing,” Jake said.

  “Oh yeah, we had no trouble believing they’re Benedicts, through and through,” Grant said, “even if their grandfather lit out of Lusty at the end of the Second World War.” Then he frowned. “That teasing was a little more intense than I would have suspected. Kind of edgy, actually.”

  “Anyway, Cord and Jackson will eventually be taking the empty house just down the street from you guys,” Jake said to Warren. “They said they’d had enough of apartment and hotel living after five years in the NFL. They plan to stay on the ranch with the twins for the first little while, and then move into town.”

  “Can’t blame them for not wanting an apartment,” Warren said. “I’ve never lived in one, myself. I don’t think I’d care to, either.”

  “And Kate’s grandson, Clay—he’s coming to town, too, isn’t he?” Andrew asked.

  “He is, with his three children.” Jake nodded. “I’ve a number of houses lined up for him to look at, one of them just down from us.”

  “There’re a lot of kids in your neighborhood,” Grant said. “That would be good for the little ones.”

  “Yeah, it would.”

  Andrew brought the finished pot of coffee to the table, as well as a large cookie tin. Warren wanted to take it as a good sign that Adam had been content to wait while the coffee was being brewed and the chatter indulged in. If the situation was serious, he likely wouldn’t have wasted time.

  Then again, the sheriff of Lusty did not look like a happy man.

  “Do you have any idea who shot at me?” Ed asked.

  “No, damn it, and that pisses me off.” Adam sat back, took his hat off and set it on his lap. He ran his hand through his hair, his frustration a very palpable presence at the table.

  “They’ve identified the truck bumper that was mangled to look like motorcycle wreckage. It’s from a 1965 Ford F-100 pickup truck. But they don’t know where it came from. No prints, no traces of DNA on the thing. They found the shell casings—Winchester .308s—for the three shots that were fired at you, and again, no prints or DNA, and the gun is likely just a standard hunting rifle.” Adam shrugged. “It’s good news, in that it wasn’t a sniper rifle. And bad news because it could be one of thousands in the state.”

  “I reached out to some of my friends in law enforcement at the federal level,” Jake said. “There’ve been no like crimes in the data base, and no threats reported aimed at paramedics. So we’ve narrowed it down in that our shooter doesn’t appear to be part of a larger conspiracy or some homegrown terrorist type trying to make a name for himself.”

  “On the other hand, we’re no closer to discovering who fired those shots,” Adam said.

  “Do you think the people who are close to me are in danger?”

  “I have no reason to believe that they are,” Adam said.

  “And really no reason to believe that they aren’t,” Ed countered.

  “It’s not like you to look at the glass as being half empty, cousin,” Andrew said.

  “I’m not,” Ed said. “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt. If this person is after me, I want him to come at me—not my family, and sure as hell not my woman.”

  “We’ve already got Mel and Connor looking into it.” Adam shook his head. “It’s the sad truth that the State Police don’t have the resources to dig deeper when there’s no apparent imminent threat.”

  “They’ve put it down to it being some sort of prank?” Warren had to hang on to his temper with both hands.

  “They didn’t say so in so many words,” Adam said. “But the fact that any decent shooter, at that range, should have hit Ed and not just grazed him suggests that whoever fired that gun wasn’t really trying to kill him.”

  “That is shitty logic.” Warren looked around the table, and then he met his brother’s gaze. “Okay, I know I’m biased. But still.”

  Adam held up his hand. “It is shitty logic. But unless or until the situation changes, that’s the way it is.” He looked at Ed. “No offence, cousin, but of all the men living in Lusty you are probably the man I would put at the bottom of a list of people who would have someone after them.”

  “I’m not offended. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would deliberately shoot at me, either. My only real concern was that if I was a target, then someone close to me could end up getting hurt, instead.”

  “Look, I can’t tell you the incident was random. The only thing we can do, all of us, is keep our eyes open. The detectives are on it—and you know they’re good. If there’s something to find, they’ll find it. In the meantime—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ed said. “Keep aware. Don’t worry, I will.”

  “We all will,” Warren said.

  It was a h
ell of a situation, but really, Adam was right. Warren would have liked to have known for certain that the incident was some sort of prank, or someone who’d just gotten drunk and taken pot shots at whoever showed up to the scene.

  But the very fact that the shooter had gone to some trouble to call in the accident and then make it appear as if there had been one didn’t sit well with him. The police had tried to dial back the call, only to discover the cell phone had been one of those disposable ones, and untraceable.

  The fact that Adam and Jake had turned to those two private investigators told Warren it didn’t sit well with them, either.

  Chapter 14

  “This looks fabulous, Carol. And I can’t believe I can already use my hands!”

  Carol grinned at Samantha Kendall. Chloe had invested in bringing the concept of the two-week manicure to Lusty, Texas. The older women especially seemed to really like the results.

  “I know, it’s great, isn’t it?” She held out her own hands. Carol kept her nails fairly short, rounded and not squared off, and at the moment sported a French tip manicure. “Do you know I had to scrub a pot last night with steel wool, when the cherry sauce I was making caramelized—but you wouldn’t know to look at these hands that I did anything of the sort.”

  Samantha took a hold of Carol’s right hand. “Amazing. I wish they’d had this procedure back when I was young and vain.” Samantha grinned. “Now, it’ll be worth it just to save me from having to fuss with my nails to keep them looking neat.”

  Carol laughed. “I can’t imagine that you were ever vain, Samantha.” She’d started out calling all of her customers by their titles, but the women of Lusty soon let her know there’d be none of that. Just as Kate Benedict was “Grandma Kate,” the other ladies were simply “Samantha,” “Bernice,” “Abigail,” and, of course, “Anna.”

  Every single one of them treated her with affection and respect.

  After just six months, she felt more a part of the community here than she’d ever felt back in Abilene.

  I’ve been thinking Abilene instead of “home,” because Lusty is home now.

  “Oh, trust me,” Samantha said. “When I drove into town that August day in 1972, I was vain, impatient, and certain I was destined for great fame as a trial lawyer.” The tall red-haired woman beamed a huge smile. Carol thought Samantha Kendall was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever known.

  “Well I don’t know how famous you became in your career, but I do know that you’re known by everyone in town, and loved and respected by all. That’s fame, in my book.”

  “What a sweet thing to say. Thank you, Carol.” The taller woman gathered her into a hug—something else that happened with regularity in Lusty. At first the gestures made her feel awkward and maybe a little stupid. But she’d gotten used to them, and in fact looked forward to them.

  “You’re welcome.” Carol rang up the manicure, and made change.

  “Now, I’m off to meet my daughters for lunch. We’re planning a mega shopping trip to Dallas for the first weekend after Thanksgiving.”

  “Wow. I bet those stores won’t know what hit them.”

  “That’s the plan. You should think about coming with us.”

  “Oh! Well, I don’t know…”

  “It’ll be fun. You’ve got lots of time to think about it.” She looked at her watch. “Late. I must run. Bye for now.”

  Carol just shook her head. It occurred to her that several of the ladies she’d come to know were over sixty—heck, Grandma Kate was over ninety—and yet they all seemed very young at heart.

  “A shopping trip to Dallas with all those women.” She could hardly imagine it, but what she could imagine sounded like fun to her.

  Samantha had barely been gone a minute when movement out the other side of the front window captured her attention.

  Those two paramedics were headed her way. It was way too early to have lunch—they’d done that a couple of times in the last week…

  Oh, my! It’s their regular day and time for their manicures.

  Both men grinned when Warren opened the door and they stepped inside.

  “You don’t need to do this anymore,” Carol said. Then leaning forward she added, “since we’ve been sharing the same bed for nearly two weeks, now.”

  Warren took advantage to the way she’d leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her lips. Edward did the same—and then looked around to ensure that no one had seen.

  “Sorry,” he said. “You’re at work and we don’t want you to think we don’t respect that, or you, as a professional.”

  “I would never think you didn’t respect me as a professional.” To prove it, she went up on her toes to kiss them each in turn. “Now, you don’t need to make an appointment just to see me. We could have lunch, later, if you’re not busy.”

  “The truth is, we have a confession to make,” Warren said. He looked over at Edward, who continued with their confession.

  “The first time when we came over here for our manicures, we…um…”

  “Made up the biggest crock of bull ever served in polite company?” Carol grinned.

  “Oh. Hey, we thought that was a good story,” Warren said. “And I know we delivered it with complete conviction.

  “It was a good story.” Chloe came into the reception area, a smile on her face. Instead of just nodding to the men, who were actual first cousins to her fiancés, she kissed them each on the cheek. “It was also a crock of bull. But a very imaginative one.”

  Carol laughed because Chloe had obviously overheard her comment.

  “Okay, busted. But here’s the thing,” Warren said. “We like the way our hands feel now.”

  Edward nodded, flashed a guilty-looking glance at Carol’s breasts, and then said, “They don’t feel effeminate, they just feel smooth and comfortable.”

  Chloe grinned and put her arm around Carol. “And I am certain that Carol is personally gratified that your cuticles and nails are smooth and comfortable.”

  “Oh, man!” Edward looked toward the back room. “Our mother better not be back there—or Kate, or Aunt Bernice or—”

  “No, they’re all gone. Samantha Kendall was the last one and you missed her by mere seconds.” Carol could keep a straight face. She’d never really indulged in teasing before—she’d never felt confident enough in herself or another human being enough that she could tease—and she was having fun.

  “I’ll tell you what.” Chloe gave them each a soft smile, and then hooked her arms through theirs. “If you can somehow work into the course of your conversations with your male cousins just how much you like having your nails and cuticles tended to, then I won’t tease you anymore.”

  Warren and Edward exchanged a look. While Carol couldn’t tell what they were thinking, the expressions on both their faces made her a little curious. Over the course of the last few months she’d heard from enough people in town who thought these particular brothers Jessop were very serious, and very seriously geeks. But she’d seen a more relaxed and a more playful side to them both.

  Now, she had to wonder. What were they thinking to cause that hint of sly amusement?

  “We can do that,” Edward said.

  “I don’t see that would be a problem,” Warren said.

  Carol looked at Chloe through her peripheral vision to see if her boss had caught the hint of calculation in those two very careful statements.

  Chloe just treated the men to a smile. “Come and sit and I’ll get you each a hot pack. Carol will be ready for you in just a few minutes.”

  It didn’t take her long to set up in their usual room. Her manicure station was on wheels, a handy fact for those times when they were booked solid in the main salon.

  Her men weren’t the only clients to have their nails done in an unoccupied private room.

  She went to the Serenity room to tell them she was ready for them. There they sat, with the soft music playing, the candlelight flickering, hot packs on their necks and the
y looked…sexy, masculine, and very relaxed.

  Chloe stocked hot packs as one of the items available for sale. They were, in fact, one of her best-selling items next to the one of a kind local jewelry.

  Carol would get two to take home with her for them tonight.

  Warren opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Are you ready for us, sweetheart?”

  How could a simple woman like herself ever be ready for the two of them? She hadn’t planned on them and had no experiences in her life that she could look back on and say, yes, right there was where I prepared for them. But apparently, that didn’t matter.

  Some things in life there was just no preparation for. So she smiled and she shrugged. “As ready for you as I can be, I guess.”

  Warren’s grin came fast and worked wonders at smoothing her slightly shaken sensibilities. “I was referring to giving us our manicures.”

  A woman had no defenses against a man like that. All she could do was smile right back. “I knew that. But if you look at my ass as I lead you to the room I’ve got set up, you’ll make all the ladies in the main room giggle—and wonder what we’re really doing behind closed doors.”

  “Oh oh,” Edward said. Then he gave her a wink. “We’ve looked at your ass every time you’ve led us through, beautiful.”

  Carol wasn’t silly enough to think even for one moment that they were teasing her. She knew they were telling the truth.

  Nope, no defenses at all.

  * * * *

  “Damn, I almost forgot.” Ed reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out an envelope. “We went to the post office just before we came over—we had to pick up a package, a special order that had come in for us—and Mo gave us this letter to give to you.”

  “You know the entire town knows about your romance when the post mistress starts giving you mail to deliver,” Warren said. Then he smiled. “Just sayin’.”

  “I only go there about once a week. It keeps slipping my mind.” She took the envelope and then turned it over to look at it. “Oh.”

  Ed knew Warren had also noticed the way her expression changed. They’d both read the return address, and so they knew that the letter, whatever its contents, came from her mother.