by Angi Morgan
“I’ll get the patrolman to unlock—”
“No need.” Gillie popped up and removed a small key from a box on a lower cabinet shelf. “Oh, Dad. Don’t get any ideas. Little Jack gave me this years ago in case something happened.”
Jack Sr. cleared his throat.
“Nothing like that. I was undercover. I didn’t know if I’d be any good at it, so I took precautions if someone linked me back to the ranch. There’s one in your house. Mom knows where.”
Jack Sr. waved him off. “We should get to the matter at hand before the men outside gather their courage. How can I help clear up this mess, son?”
Megan was confused. Even more so when Gillie unlocked her handcuffs, put a finger to her lips and sat again.
“Oscar came to the house?” Jack asked.
“I think he was on his way to the house before Gillie pulled off the property,” his dad said.
“And your detail got wind of everything?” Gillie asked. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Obvious political reasons, sweetheart. This was the best I could do after the fact. If you’d come to me—”
“We can discuss how you help me and Gillie at another time.” Jack finally moved, scratching his chin and thinking.
She’d observed him so many times in the past couple of days that she was familiar with his process. This was normally the time that she interjected, but she’d take the advice handed to her minutes ago and stay quiet.
Well, there was one suggestion. “If I may?”
Both Jacks and Gillie snapped their heads around to look at her. She waited for permission. That was strange and not something she wanted to become a habit. Jack raised a questioning eyebrow.
“If I could use my laptop to check information about the case and check my messages.”
“Absolutely not!”
“Dad,” the siblings said together.
“It’s actually a good idea,” Jack defended. “Didn’t you mention that you’ve got a portable external hard drive with you?”
“Is that even legal?” his dad asked.
“I was on a case in Dallas and needed access to my files. There shouldn’t have been anything sensitive in what I took with me.”
“Then I don’t see the point.”
“It might help us. I thought you wanted us out of your hair.”
“I didn’t say that.” He turned to Gillie. “Did I say anything like that?”
Gillie slapped the sofa cushion, pushing herself to her feet. “I’ll have Scranton get the bag. And I’m telling Mom that neither one of you gets access to the Cowboys game on Thanksgiving Day until you talk all this mess out.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Gillie smiled at her brother and father. “Oh, yeah, it definitely is.”
Officer Scranton reluctantly opened the laptop bag, knowing that it broke so many rules they wouldn’t fit on one page. But apparently, he’d served on several of the same cases as Jack. He sighed and said he’d video the entire thing, which seemed to satisfy everyone.
Megan opened the secured laptop and hard drive, not only allowing Scranton to use his phone to record her passwords, but also writing them down along with the files she was accessing.
“This is taking longer than I’d hoped,” Jack Sr. stated on one of his passes around the dining-room table. “Are you sure you need to write it all down?”
“I don’t want anything we find to be thrown out in court. We’re risking a lot doing this here.” Megan wrote another file name down. “We’ve been tossing around ideas for two days. Honestly, this might be the last copy of some of these files.”
“Young lady, I have no idea what you’re searching for. Nor do I want to know. Don’t think that you have anything to do with receiving help from me. I’m here solely to clear my son’s name.”
“You’re on tape, Dad,” Gillie reminded him while Jack Jr. first rolled then covered his eyes.
“Yes, I know. I’m still uncertain how this family even became involved in this mess.”
“One word... Wade,” Gillie said, summing up the explanation.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Megan tried to ignore the conversation as she searched the files. She couldn’t wait to meet Wade. She owed him a great deal. The man who was responsible for bringing Jack into her life. Who knew what might have happened if he hadn’t convinced his partner to meet her at the airport?
“These are the files associated with Harry Knight.” She turned the laptop to where they could all look at them. “I’m uncertain why anyone would want to kill him over his notary signature. It’s not like his office isn’t responsible for hundreds of these a day.”
“Didn’t you mention that he personally signed these and that was the only strange thing?” Jack asked.
“Yes, but even then—”
“Why is that strange?” Gillie and Scranton asked.
“Because he’s the head of the office,” Megan began. “Not someone at the front desk.”
“An elected official would oversee things, direct,” Jack Sr. finished. “He goes to meetings. He doesn’t pull the notary stamp out and verify signatures for just anyone. Let me see those.”
“Every property ending with a fire has his personal signature.”
Jack Sr. took a seat next to Megan and scrolled through the scanned copies of documents. “This has to be what started everything. Miss Harper, I think you’re being framed. And I think I can help you connect some dots.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Good old-fashioned insurance fraud with a twenty-first-century twist,” his father explained to the state attorney general. “I agree. Knight wasn’t the random victim everyone thought. Yes. Yes, that’s my son’s company. I’ll pass your instructions along. Thank you.”
The officers waited patiently on the front porch. Gillie had shut herself behind her bedroom door. Megan sat on the couch beside him—actually, handcuffed to him. There was only so far the officers would trust Jack Sr., even if he was a newly elected state senator.
Until they were ordered otherwise, technically Jack and Megan were still wanted for questioning in Austin and Dallas. The officers didn’t know they had nowhere to go. After his dad cleared the air, he would take Megan to headquarters for protection.
“He’s bringing in the Rangers to handle the City of Dallas investigation,” his father explained. “You’ll be briefed when you arrive in Dallas.”
“Really? Just one phone call.” Megan leaned closer. “Your dad got everything taken care of with one phone call.”
“Yep.” He wasn’t resentful, but he didn’t exactly have to be glad about it. Yet. Fixing this problem was out of his hands. It always had been.
“You have to admit the fraud was very hard to pick up on. Different buyers of buildings that couldn’t legally be sold. Shouldn’t have been sold because they’re in probate or the heirs can’t be found.”
“All abandoned buildings lost to fire. It might have taken years to come to the attention of my department.” Megan looked like she was enjoying the brainstorming session.
“And yet someone sent you to check it out. You’re not sure who or why. And they didn’t give you a heads-up about what to look for.”
“I see your point. I can admit that I’m being framed.”
“You have an enemy out there. That’s certain,” Jack Sr. said, leaning back in the chair.
“An enemy that loves fire,” Jack pointed out.
“That should be easy to narrow down.”
“Only if you had a list to begin with,” Megan admitted.
“Don’t you? Have a list, I mean.” Jack thought it would be pretty easy from this point. “You work for the state fire marshal. How hard can it be to get a list of arsons matching the fire particulars?”
“That’s just
it. All the fires are different. Arsonists normally stick to one type of device. Psychopaths definitely do and want to watch. Those files represented seven completely different buildings. Seven locations. Seven types of fuel that all look accidental. Seven different times of day.”
“I get it. That’s the reason authorities didn’t make the connection.” He wrapped his handcuffed hand over hers and released it just as quickly. The last thing he needed was his dad racing to the conclusion that he was involved with Megan.
He might want to be, but he wasn’t.
Yet.
That was a big yet.
“Can you call Scranton inside, son?” His dad shut the laptop and leaned back in his chair.
Jack locked his fingers around Megan’s wrist and pulled her to her feet as he stood. They worked together without words and waved the officer inside.
“The attorney general needs to know your supervisor’s number. He’ll make the official call to you. I don’t want anyone accusing us of letting Little Jack go because of my new status.”
Scranton nodded and took himself back outside.
“What happens now?” Megan asked.
“Well, you can let yourself out of those handcuffs, for one.” His dad tossed him the key he’d given Gillie months ago. “Then you can tell me more about yourself.”
“Dad, I appreciate—”
“Let me stop you right there, son. You don’t have a vehicle, you look like you’re exhausted and you’re probably hungry. We can go back up to the main house, have some dinner and you two can get a good night’s sleep. All this will be waiting on you in the morning.”
What ulterior motive could his father have? As nice as the man was...there was always an ulterior motive.
“Sounds wonderful. I’m dying for a hot bath after the dousing in the creek this morning. I think my toes are still blue.”
“Then it’s settled. Let me check on Scranton.” His father left, closing the door gently behind him.
“Are they gone?” Gillie asked from the doorway leading to the bedrooms.
“Yes. But Dad’s up to something. Unless you want to have dinner up at the house, you should stay in your room.”
She waved him off and tossed some clothes at Megan. “Dad’s always up to something. You’re older than me. You should know that by now.”
He was and he did.
The conversation quickly turned to clothes and houses being blown to bits and back to shoes. Jack stood at the window, watching his father in his political stance—shaking hands and gripping the other man’s shoulder.
He shouldn’t care that his father would choose to remind him about the help he’d given. It was the same with everything that Little Jack MacKinnon took on. None of that really worried him. What did was fending off the obvious argument that would be coming to a head tonight if they had dinner with his parents.
Life-altering decisions were always discussed at dinner. It didn’t matter that Megan would be there. Nope. His dad would push forward on his position that only his son was qualified to follow in his footsteps.
Jack dropped his head to the thick windowpane as the officers got into the two remaining patrol cars and pulled away. His dad waved at him and got into his black SUV. He hadn’t bothered to verify that Jack actually saw the gesture. It didn’t matter, since one of his men would have come to knock on the door.
“He looks very accustomed to that sort of life,” Gillie said over his shoulder, offering a hug. Then she opened the door for her guests to leave. “The guards only showed up yesterday after I told him they’d blown up your house. Night, guys.”
“You aren’t coming to dinner?” Megan asked.
“That’s all you, big brother. Good luck.” She shook her head and smiled at him. “I have leftovers from yesterday’s meeting.”
* * *
MEGAN HAD AN image of what she thought a senator’s home would be like. Okay, money. She’d imagined money. The house was nice, simple, updated but old. It turned out that the stairs creaked and the bathroom door stuck. And Jack’s mom had to quickly defrost chicken for dinner.
Defrosting of another kind was on Megan’s mind as she luxuriated in the steel claw-foot tub and used every bit of the hot water.
“You ready to eat?” Jack’s voice was at the door just as the bathwater began to cool.
“I’ll be right there, Little Jack.”
“There’s no need to get nasty. You got your bath.” His footsteps disappeared down the staircase.
True. She’d gotten her bath and was clean. Mrs. MacKinnon had set out flannel pajamas and thick woolen socks. She’d mentioned that Gillie had given her a heads-up about Megan’s frozen toes.
As she stepped off the last stair, she turned to find parents and son in a deep whispered discussion.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“I was just telling Mom and Dad that we probably shouldn’t discuss the case.” Jack pulled out her chair at the beautifully set dining table. “Or other subjects that might get heated.”
“Oh, don’t stop because of me.”
Lena MacKinnon burst out laughing. “Little Jack said we’d like you.”
Everyone sat, and dishes went around. Simple yet delicious. It felt like she was back at her mother’s table.
“I’ve got to say, Lena, that I’m impressed. This is wonderful. My manners insist that I apologize for putting you out like this, but your chicken is amazing.”
“I’m so glad you like it. I can give you the recipe if you’d like it.”
“Megan doesn’t cook,” Jack said before she could finish her bite and answer for herself.
“I’d love the recipe. Thanks.” She turned to Jack, who sat next to her, and said, “I can read, silly.”
“You just currently don’t have a kitchen.” Jack shoved another bite of the chicken into his mouth.
True. It didn’t get past her that he was in a crisp white button-down shirt and looking all cowboy handsome with a freshly shaved face and slicked-back wet hair.
She should tone down her banter and act like her mother’s child. Polite. Well mannered. Businesslike. She could do that if she tried. But Jack was just so darn easy to tease.
The tension between him and his father was a forbidden conversation. She knew that and had an idea of what it concerned. So most of the conversation was about the upcoming homecoming festivities.
“The kids are decorating windows tomorrow. Will you be back in time to supervise, Little Jack?” Lena asked.
“Afraid not. I need to head to Dallas after I drop Megan off at headquarters.”
“What’s so important in Dallas?” Jack Sr. said, tightening the tension even more. “I simply don’t understand your apathetic attitude toward life. You have a commitment to Liberty Hill this week.”
“I also have a commitment to my partner, who’s missing.”
“You’re certain? I thought you needed to make contact.” Why was adrenaline soaring through her veins? She was ready to forgo dinner cleanup, additional teasing and, most important, sleep. They should be on the road, tracking down Wade.
“I’ve made some calls. No one’s seen him since Thursday.”
“Wade Hamilton is not your responsibility.”
“We should change the subject, Jack. He asked us not to talk about this tonight.” Lena patted her husband’s arm as he put down his fork.
“My apologies, Miss Harper. There never seems to be a right time for this conversation.” Jack Sr. stood and dropped his napkin in his chair, giving a stern look at his son.
“That’s because it’s the wrong conversation. I chose a different life, Dad. I’m over thirty. Successful. And a part of an elite law-enforcement agency that lots of good men never break into. Don’t bother getting up. I’m asleep on my feet and ready to turn in.”
“I think
I’ll head up, too,” Megan said while chewing the last bite of chicken. “Thank you so much. Don’t hate me for not cleaning up.”
Jack was already halfway up the stairs, but he waited for her. Both his parents assured her helping with the dishes wasn’t necessary and wished her good-night. He’d lost it. Not badly, but she knew he’d done exactly what he didn’t want to do.
When she caught up with him, he pointed to her room in the middle of the hall next to the bath. “I’m at the end.” He pointed a little farther.
“Want to talk about it?”
“We already have.” They stopped at her open door.
“Are you really worried about your partner?” she whispered.
He nodded and realized Wade wasn’t just an excuse to get away from his father. “Somebody in Company B should have heard from him. He might be a seat-of-his-pants sort of guy, but he knows what happens when a ranger goes missing.”
All hell broke loose for sure.
“I’m going with you,” Megan said as quietly as before.
“No. You’re not.”
Megan copied the way he was standing and mimicked what he thought had been a look of determination. “Putting your hands on your hips isn’t going to get your way. I think if I went back downstairs, I could convince both your mom and dad that my expertise is needed in Dallas. I can answer questions there.”
He gently shoved her through the door and closed it behind him.
“Why do you want to go with me? You need to be in protective custody. Somebody’s trying to kill you.” Like she didn’t know that already.
She quickly slid her arms across his chest and around his neck. “I am in protective custody.”
He grabbed her wrists, ready to pull her hands away, but didn’t really want to. “I shouldn’t be here. This is my parents’ house.”
“You’re right.” She tugged his ear to her mouth, scraping her teeth along its ridge. “I can’t risk that you’re a screamer.”
That’s it.
Jack wrapped his arms tightly around her, leaving no space between his shirt and her borrowed pajamas. He stretched her body until her mouth was even with his. Then he started kissing the soft area where her neck and shoulder connected.