The Lost Locket

by Marie Harte

  The deep drawl of a Southern boy joined the arched pitch of someone not from around here. And there, Deputy Do-Right, Stanton, that prick.

  “This her?” Stanton rounded the corner with two strangers she’d never seen before. Because no way in hell could a woman forget those faces.

  The taller one wore a cowboy hat, a black T-shirt stretched tight over a huge chest and broad shoulders, jeans, and dark brown boots. Southern sex personified.

  He looked rough and ready, and it was a good thing she was behind bars, or she feared she would have climbed the mountain of his glorious body and mounted him then and there.

  Not to be outdone, his companion looked like the epitome of handsome. More streamlined than the cowboy but muscular all the same, he had short brown hair and eyes so dark, they looked black. The square jaw, aquiline nose, and cheekbones hinted at Nordic ancestry. Dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, he looked like the cover model for a fashion magazine that specialized in the world’s sexiest people.

  Whoa, strange time for her libido to go crazy and for her locket to suddenly try to burn a hole through her chest.

  “Ow! Shit!” She pulled the chain away from her body and danced in place to ease the sting. After tentatively touching it again, she sighed with relief to find the metal cold once more.

  “You okay?” Stanton asked as if he cared. Putting on a show for the visitors.

  She glanced up at them only to see two pairs of stunned gazes fixated on her.

  The one in the hat cleared his throat and blinked, taking away the sight of that magnetic silver gaze.

  “That’s her.”

  “Her who?” she asked, trying not to appear so fascinated with the sexy duo.

  The one with the big brown eyes forced a grin. “Honey, you don’t know us, but my cousin and I have been looking for you.” He gave her some spiel about a dead Aunt Kitty and a reunion, but she wasn’t buying it.

  He was good, but she’d been bullshitting bullshitters since she’d learned to talk. A genetic gift, like her affinity for precious metals.

  “I’m sorry,” Brown Eyes continued. “I know this is a lot to take in. Your mother never mentioned Kitty?”

  He spoke as if Deputy Dawg and the iron bars didn’t stand between them.

  “Never talked about her, no.” Rory summoned a few tears, pleased she still had the ability to cry on command. “Mother died when I was just twelve.” Truth. “But Uncle Bobby never mentioned he had another sister. Must have been bad blood between them.”

  Cowboy and Brown Eyes exchanged a glance while Stanton looked on, suspicious. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Cowboy murmured. To his friend, he said, “You shouldn’t have dropped it on her like that, James.”

  “Look, Keegan, I just thought she should know how much Aunt Kitty wanted us to find her.” James smiled apologetically. “The family really wants to meet you.

  We’d be happy to pay your fine and take you home. You’ll love Uncle Jack. He’s a treasure.”

  Keegan choked and muttered something under his breath, and she knew she was missing half of what James meant.

  “Where’s home? And who are you?”

  Keegan nudged James out of the way. “I’m your cousin Keegan, and that’s James. We live out West and made the trip east just to see you. It’d mean a lot to my momma if we found you.” His voice dropped an octave, and she had to restrain her urge not go to him and beg him not to stop talking. Could this guy be any sexier? “She and Kitty were real good friends.”

  James nodded behind him. “Shawn, what do we need to do to get her out of here?”

  Shawn? James was already on a first-name basis with the deputy?

  Her expression must have changed, though she’d done her best to show nothing but sadness and confusion.

  Keegan took a cautious step back. “We’re rushing you. Sorry, Rory. That is your name, right?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s just that the reunion’s put us on a deadline. But we’re not gonna force you to come. We’re not here to force you to do anything,” he emphasized. “You want to stay here, it’s okay. Deputy Stanton tells us you’re safe enough. I just thought you might want out of here.” He glanced at the drunk snoring in the cell beside her.

  He made a good point. Before she could agree, Ed Jackson appeared, looking none too pleased with her visitors. “Shawn? What’s going on?”

  Keegan and James turned as one, putting themselves between the jail cell and Ed and Stanton. They worked as a team, but if they were cousins, she’d eat Keegan’s hat. And her cousins? Please. She knew enough about her heritage to know there’d never been a Kitty anywhere in her family tree, on her mom’s or dad’s side.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Ed asked in that lord-of-the-manor tone she hated.

  He didn’t seem to know them, and Rory’s tension eased quite a bit. She decided she’d be better off leaving with them and letting them explain what the hell they were doing pretending to be her relation than staying in jail under Ed’s thumb.

  “That’s James, and I’m Keegan,” Keegan replied. “Who the fuck are you?” Oh, she liked him more and more.

  James hissed at him to behave. “Calm down, hothead.” He turned to Ed.

  “We’re Rory’s cousins. And you are?”

  “That’s Edward Jackson, head of the town council in Jackson Heights,” Deputy Stanton answered with pride. “Finest man ever stood here in this jail.” Ed’s anger seemed to deflate at the compliment, but he didn’t take his gaze from Keegan. “Thank you, Deputy. As Shawn said, I’m head of the town council. I’m responsible for the citizen’s arrest on Rory.”

  “Citizen’s arrest?” she scoffed. “You threw me in here because I wouldn’t sleep with you.”

  Ed flushed. “I had you arrested because you assaulted my cousin. Rory broke her nose.”

  Keegan turned his head and winked at her over his shoulder. “Rory? A little thing like her? I don’t believe it.”

  Only a guy six and a half feet tall would call her little. “You just met her. You wouldn’t know what she’s capable of.” Stanton defended Ed, his boss’s brother, with his every breath.

  “Yeah, and I just met you. How do I know you didn’t trump up the charges?

  Let’s see the arrest record,” Keegan demanded.

  Stanton stuttered.

  James interrupted. “Actually, I’d be interested in seeing that as well. Has she had her due process? Been Mirandized? I work for the State Bureau of Investigation, so when I say I know the law, I’m not kidding.” Stanton winced, and Ed paled.

  James’s voice grew razor sharp. “I didn’t think so. I want her out of here right now.”

  Keegan and James stood back as Stanton hurried away to get the keys without looking at Ed.

  “You can’t just come in here and—”

  “And what? Demand that Rory receives what every citizen of this country has been guaranteed?”

  Keegan leaned back against the bars and crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing. “Go on, cuz.”

  “You shoved her into a cell and violated her civil rights. You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t decide to sue you and your police force.”

  “Hell, why not sue the town?” Keegan offered.

  “I just want out of here,” Rory murmured, trying her best to figure out what the hell was going on.

  Ed looked flustered. “She hurt my cousin. I have proof.”

  “Fine. Take it to a court of law and get justice the right way.” Keegan straightened up when Stanton returned with the key. He unlocked the door, and Keegan reached in to grab Rory’s hand. At the contact, she gasped. He felt warm, and the locket at her throat hummed the way it did when she found buried gems and precious stones.

  A glance at him showed him focused on the others, but his jaw was clenched tight. Heat literally welled where they touched. So warm, arousing, sexual.

  Good Lord, she was not going to orgasm in a jail cell two feet from Ed Jackson
and a drunk covered in vomit. And not from the touch of a stranger.

  She willed herself to relax and felt the locket cool. But Keegan’s touch still bothered her. She liked it too much.

  His voice was definitely gritty when he said, “James, you can argue this in court. Let’s go.”

  “Court?” Ed frowned. “You’re going to take this to court?”

  “Damn straight. I may have just met her, but she’s blood. You don’t fuck with family.” Still gripping Rory’s hand, Keegan pushed past Ed and Stanton, James in tow.

  They said nothing as they left the building and practically ran down the street.

  “To the SUV, now,” Keegan murmured.

  They rushed around the corner and froze. Two men armed with rifles stood guarding the one vehicle in Jackson Heights that didn’t belong. More proof that Ed and his relatives had a stranglehold on this town. Before they were spotted, Rory and the guys retreated into a copse of trees back around the corner.

  “You just had to run at the mouth, didn’t you?” Keegan said with disgust.

  “What’s going on? Hey, let me go.” Rory tried but couldn’t break free from Keegan’s giant hand engulfing her smaller one.

  “Sorry, sweetcakes, but you’re coming with us. SBI, my ass,” he muttered at James.

  “Hey, it got her out of there,” James protested. “You couldn’t have come up with something nontraceable? Jackson is probably making calls as we speak. Dumb-ass. After all I’ve taught you.”

  “All you’ve taught me? Please, cowboy. You were a glorified cop who used to rope steers. I was Marine Corps before I joined the mumbo squad.”

  “Mumbo squad?” Keegan surprised her by laughing during their heated argument. “Haven’t heard that one in a while. I guess you are good for something.” Rory considered her options. They’d obviously lied, but they’d freed her in the process. And Keegan had taken Ed down a few pegs. For that alone, she’d have done him a favor. “You two rescued me, I figure I owe you. Follow me, and then you can explain just what the hell ‘Aunt Kitty’ really wants with me.” She tugged her hand, simultaneously relieved and strangely at a loss when Keegan let go. Too weird.

  Even for me.

  “After you, beautiful,” James said with a nod. And off they went.

  Chapter Six

  Rory knew better than to return to her cabin, so she sought sanctuary at Becky’s. The old woman answered the rickety door of her shack before Rory could knock.

  “’Bout time. I was just heading out to bingo.”

  Keegan tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

  “Ma’am.” James nodded.

  Becky sighed. “You just don’t see manners like this anymore.” Then she leaned closer to Rory and whispered in a voice loud enough to wake the dead, “Or men this fine. Did you see those muscles, girl? I bet they’re both packin’, and I don’t mean guns.” She cackled until she coughed.

  Rory flushed and tried to pretend she hadn’t heard Becky’s embarrassing comments. “Yeah, well, we kind of ran into trouble downtown. So I was wondering if—”

  “Don’t stay here. Ed will be coming soon enough with his brother and a few more deputies, I imagine.” She’d foreseen. “You’ll be safe enough at number four.

  You know where to go.”

  Becky’s favorite watering hole was a large space set in the heart of the mountain. A little-known treasure trove of illegal goods, guns, and anything else Becky wanted hidden from the authorities. It all added up to a nice stash after six or seven decades’ worth of collection, and Becky had supposedly only ever shared it with Rory. Why, Rory didn’t know.

  “Thanks, Becky.” Rory paused, wondering how to introduce her companions. “Don’t bother. I’ll see my way out.” Becky smiled. “I left a bag up there for you.

  Figured you might need it.” To James she said, “Foreman, make sure you take care of my girl.”

  Foreman? The same foreman who was coming to take Rory away?

  James blinked. “Ah, okay.”

  Not sure what to make of that, Rory watched Becky amble off. “Number four, she said. It’s a hike up the mountains, but you guys look like you can handle it.” And if Becky trusted two strangers with the whereabouts of her most prized hideaway, Rory would trust them too.

  Up to a point.

  Two hours and stiff joints later, she and her “cousins” walked into a ten-feet-wide by thirty-feet-deep cave in the mountain that Becky had converted into a small, one-room house. Rock walls and a ceiling braced with wooden beams surrounded a cleared space complete with two small skylights letting in the sun.

  The even floor looked worn, and she wondered how often Becky had come to store the treasures lining the multitudes of shelves by the back wall. Her trusty still looked well-used and sat by the western wall in pristine condition. Next to it sat two large jugs of what could only be some type of pungent alcohol.

  “Hey, there’s a stream running through here.” Keegan knelt by the back corner, removed his hat, and put his hand in the water. Then he ran his hand through his thick black hair. With his hat off, she could see that his hair fell to just below his nape and was prone to unruly waves. And wow, did he take masculinity to a whole new level.

  James sidled next to her, making her jump.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I don’t suppose Becky has any food up here?

  I’m starved.” He patted his flat stomach, and Rory had the urge to ask him to lift his shirt and show off what had to be killer abs.

  So not normal, girl. Lusting after not just one, but two strangers? Aware said strangers had neared and were now standing too close, staring at her, she took a healthy step back and crossed her arms over her chest, wishing they didn’t follow her every movement like hungry hawks. Granted, Rory indulged in sex; she wasn’t a prude. She liked feeling good. But she’d never been into more than one partner, and not after just meeting the guys. Trust was one commodity she didn’t have in spades.

  She nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Okay, guys. Spill it. Who are you, why are you here, and what do you want?”

  No one spoke. The intensity in the room ratcheted up another notch, and then Keegan sighed and sat in one of only four pieces of furniture in the room. A large, thick recliner, a table, a chair, and one huge-ass mattress that lay on the ground occupied the sparse room. Rory had no idea how Becky had managed to drag a mattress that size up the mountain, even in her younger years, but she was dying to ask.

  “I guess I’ll answer your questions,” James said drily when Keegan closed his eyes and tipped his head back, exposing a thick neck and wide shoulders. Even at rest, he appeared dangerous. Rory told herself not to underestimate either of them, especially after seeing the way they’d handled Ed and Stanton. They not only had bulk but brains at their disposal.

  James sat at the table, leaving Rory standing in the middle of the room, no longer crowded. Alert and ready to flee at the slightest provocation, she felt safer standing above both men. Understanding James wanted her at ease, she nodded in appreciation.

  “Nicely played. Show yourselves as nonthreatening by sitting, making your size less of an issue. And the little woman softens, begins to think she might just be able to trust you.”

  Keegan didn’t speak or open his eyes, but James grinned. Her heart seemed to stop, captured by his lethal warmth. A genuine smile like that knocked her socks off. Were these guys deadly or what?

  “I like you, Rory Taylor. That is your name, right?” “Mine, yeah. But what’s yours, cousin?”

  “I’m James, that’s Keegan. Our real names. We’re not your cousins, not related at all to anything but a job concerning you, your locket, and Bend, Oregon.” Mention of the locket alarmed her, but she forced herself to remain loose. The second time in four days someone was after her necklace. It was like being sixteen all over again, fighting with her uncles over possession of it. As if her mother would have ever wanted them to have anything of hers.

  “Go on,” she s
aid when James studied her. She was more than aware he still hadn’t given her his or Keegan’s last names.

  “We came to Jackson Heights to get a locket that was supposedly stolen from our client.” James frowned. “You seem pretty attached to it. I was prepared to buy it from you if you hadn’t already pawned it. But I get the feeling you’ll just tell me to kiss your pretty ass if I ask how much.”

  “Hmm, pretty ass. Yep.” Keegan blinked his eyes open and grinned at her.

  “She’s got a pretty ass and a hard right hook, I’ll bet. You sure do pack a wallop, darlin’.” The sharp look he sent James didn’t go unnoticed.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” James said quietly.

  Keegan raised a brow. “You feel it too?”

  James nodded.

  “Touch her and see what happens.”

  “Whoa, down boys.” Rory backed up a step when they both rose to their feet.

  “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” James stopped an arm’s length from her. “Just touch the tip of my finger if it makes you feel any better.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? Just do it,” Keegan said. “I promise not to kill you, and he promises not to molest you with his pinkie. Okay?”

  “That’s not funny.” She glared at him. To her surprise, he smiled back at her at the same instant James did, and the double whammy of charm had her reaching out to James before she could overthink it. The second her finger touched his, sparks danced through her body and power built like an inferno under the spot beneath her locket.

  “Fuck,” James swore, his eyes wide.

  “Told you.” Keegan licked his lips and stared at her as if he wanted to eat her.

  So much hunger in that stare…

  Scared and unsure of what they meant to do to her when she refused to give up the locket, Rory gave in to her instinctive need to flee and stepped back, breaking the unwanted connection between herself and James. Before the men could approach, she held out her hands and released the power inside her.

  The explosion that resulted propelled both men against the walls, shook the cavern, and dislodged rocks and dust from the ceiling. James and Keegan landed hard. James didn’t move, but Keegan moaned.