by Desiree Holt
"Hello, Jamie.” Anita Cameron's voice could have chilled iced tea by itself. “I heard you were back."
"Yes. I am.” She couldn't make any other words come out of her mouth.
Anita's eyes flicked toward Kit momentarily, then dismissed her as apparently of no consequence. “Are you planning on staying long?"
Jamie took a moment to look the woman over carefully. Cool as always, light bronze complexion smooth and free and impeccably made up, dark hair showing only a little grey swept back in a French braid. She was meticulously dressed in what Jamie knew was a very expensive silk pantsuit, with discreet diamond studs in her ears and a diamond and turquoise bracelet set in delicate gold. Working for Gray Ballou obviously paid very well.
"I don't mean to be rude, Anita, but I really think that's my business, not yours."
Anita seemed to consider her words. “Stay away from my son."
Jamie opened her mouth to respond, but Anita had already turned away. Both women eyeballed her as she moved gracefully across the room to a table where two men waited for her.
Kit finally broke the stunned silence. “Well. Wasn't that special?"
Jamie picked up her water glass and drained it. Her throat was suddenly dryer than the desert. “She's never been the president of my fan club."
Kit quirked an eyebrow. “I take it she wasn't happy when you and Zane had your little fling that time."
"Hah!” Jamie waved for the waitress to refill her glass. “That's an understatement. As far as she was concerned, drunken Frank Randall's daughter wasn't fit to walk on then same street as her wildass son. And she made no bones about it."
"Oh, Jamie, honey. I am so sorry."
Jamie tucked her hair behind her ears. “No. Do not feel sorry for me. On a scale of one to ten, Anita Cameron only rated a three among the people who made me feel like trash. Now she's got a fancy job, making a ton of money, and as far as I'm concerned she still wouldn't wipe her feet on me. I'll bet she celebrated when my big scandal broke."
Kit was still watching the table against the far wall. “Doesn't this seem like a strange place for men to eat? I don't see too many of them in here?"
Jamie shrugged. “I'm sure they have their reasons."
"Jamie.” She reached across and tapped her friend's forehead. “Hello. Are you in there?"
Jamie blinked. “What?"
"The other Jamie Randall would glom onto that fact and her brain would start whirling. Suspicious. Fishy. Something going on."
"Oh, yeah? Well, that Jamie's learned her lesson. Two men having lunch with a woman. A business lunch. Maybe she works out here, and that's why they picked this place.” She opened her menu again. “Anyway, I want to stay as far away from Anita Cameron as I can."
"Would it pique your interest to know one of those men is doing his best to avoid looking at you?"
"No.” She nearly shouted the word, then swallowed and lowered her voice. “No, it would not interest me in the least. I have my own projects to work on, which will take all my attention. Especially since you don't seem too terribly inclined to help."
"Fine.” Kit rattled her menu. “I think you're crazy. For not being curious and for fixating on that stupid accident. But I'll help you, all right?” She looked around for the waitress. “Let's order. I'm starved."
* * * *
Manny Alvarado had to force himself not to keep glancing across the restaurant. Of all the damned luck for that female to be having lunch here. And for Anita Cameron to approach her. Ballou would be furious.
"Keep a low profile,” he'd said, very emphatically. “Don't make her suspicious of anything."
Why didn't the damn woman just sell the lousy piece of land and get her ass out of town? Life would be so much simpler for everyone. If this thing fell apart, Gray stood to lose an enormous chunk of his income, and that would make him very unhappy. And when Gray was unhappy, Manny was the one who suffered.
He rose as Anita reached their table and pulled out her chair.
"Thank you, Manny. Always the gentleman, I see.” Her voice was as chilly as her personality, no matter how pleasant she tried to make it. Manny never liked being around her, but then, she was Gray's problem, not his.
"It is easy for such a beautiful lady,” he murmured.
"Cut out the crap.” She opened her menu. “We're past the point of unnecessary compliments, don't you think?"
Certainly for you, bitch.
"I saw you in conversation with Jamie Randall,” he said.
Anita flicked her fingertips in the air. “Hardly conversation with that one. Jamie Randall is a piece of trash I thought we were rid of. Too bad she had to show up right now."
"What did she have to say?” Manny persisted.
"Not much. Before she left town years ago, my son had a fling with her.” She grimaced. “Shows you what poor taste he had then. I just wanted to make sure she doesn't think she can start something up again. In addition to Gray's agenda, I have plans for Zane."
Manny's eyebrows rose. “Other than being sheriff?"
She gave him a wintry smile. “Much more than that, Manny. I'm going to introduce him to the world of politics far beyond this county. And Gray's going to help me."
So. Grayson Ballou had more than one reason to chase Jamie Randall out of town.
"Surely she doesn't plan to stay around here,” Manny went on after the waitress had taken their orders.
Anita lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “I know she's involved in some scandal with her so-called career, so she probably has no place else to go at the moment. Which presents quite a problem.” She gave both men a wintry smile. “But not one I can't handle, I assure you. All I need is a little more time."
"Which we may not have,” the other man pointed out to her.
"No one knows that better than I,” she snapped. “But I'd rather do it my way than yours."
Manny shook his head. “If she'd just sell, she'd have money and could go anywhere she wanted to."
Anita's eyes narrowed. “If Gray wants her to sell, he'll have to come up with a plausible story. The last thing we need is for that little snoop to go nosing around."
* * * *
"Looks like they're in heavy conversation,” Kit commented.
"If it's about me, you can bet it's nothing good.” Jamie stabbed at a piece of avocado. “Like her precious son is the prize of the earth, anyway."
Kit put her fork down. “Jamie. Honey. It's time to put down some of that baggage you keep carrying around with you. Zane Cameron being the biggest suitcase of all. You've got to face your feelings about him once and for all."
"My feelings. Well.” Jamie picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. “Well, I feel like an idiot because I keep letting him pull me into bed. I feel stupid because I have no common sense where he's concerned. And I feel as if I'm caught in a spin cycle that won't ever stop. How's that for my feelings?"
"Pretty explicit and full of shit. This is me. Mama Bear. Remember?” She broke off a piece of roll and nibbled thoughtfully. “Tell me you're not in love with him, Jamie. That you haven't been for the past twelve years. Maybe longer. Go ahead. Your lie-o-meter will start flashing."
Jamie made a face. “I don't have the luxury of falling in love with him. I hate this damn town, and his life is here. His mother detests me. And I want out of here as fast as I can. I want to push for more details on my father's accident, and he's following up on it is all. So where's the happy ending?"
"Come on. Is this the same woman who looked her boss in the eye when he fired her and told him to go fuck himself? The same woman who sat in a van with no air-conditioning in South Florida all night to follow a tip on a story?” She picked up her fork again and speared a tomato. “We make our own happy endings, cookie. First you just have to admit you want one."
Jamie sighed. “Maybe I just figure I don't deserve one."
Kit smacked her hand playfully. “Enough of that. Let's eat, finish our shopping, and go home.
I'll help you finish cleaning that junk pile you're living in. If you do it yourself, you won't have to worry about your future. You'll be spending it with a scrub bucket."
"I just wish I had some idea what those idiots at that table are discussing. That itch on my back tells me it's about me, for sure."
Kit chewed slowly, a pensive expression on her face. “Well, you can't ask the hunky sheriff about his mother, and we have no idea who the other men are.” Her face brightened. “Want to follow them when they leave here?"
Jamie gave an emphatic shake of her head. “No, no, and no. I'm going to close my eyes and hope they go away."
"Yeah, right. Like that's going to work. All right. Let's finish up here. When we get home, we can brainstorm while we're shoveling grime."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Ten
But when they got home, an unpleasant surprise waited for them. Someone had been in the house and destroyed what was left of the worn, tattered furniture. No room had been left untouched. Furniture was over turned, cushions ripped apart, and the stuffing scattered like crazy dust bunnies. Lamps were broken. Even her dishes and coffee pot were smashed on the kitchen floor. The whole place looked as if King Kong had a raging fit in it.
Jamie stood there, shaking, as much from shock as from anger. Her heart beat against her ribs like a jackhammer, and her throat closed up like a trap door. She'd seen devastation like this but always as part of a story. Never when it was so personal. So close to her. There wasn't even a chair left to sit on. She wanted to sit down on the floor and bawl like a baby. How much more could she take?
The money.
While Kit stood in the middle of the living room staring at the mess, Jamie grabbed a screwdriver from the kitchen junk drawer and raced upstairs. Her clothes had been tossed out of her closet, but the board behind which the money was hidden was untouched. Untouched. Not even scratch marks.
If whoever it was had looked here, they hadn't seen anything to make them look further. Just to be on the safe side, however, she used the screwdriver to pry the board loose and there it was. The greasy, grimy gym bag. Still as she'd left it yesterday. She pulled it out and opened it, completely forgetting Kit until she heard the gasp behind her.
"Jesus, Jamie. I thought you were broke. Where'd you get all that cash?"
Jamie couldn't make her mouth work. She just sat on the floor holding the money and staring up at Kit.
"Come on, girl.” Kit dropped to her knees. “My god, what a lot of bucks. Did you rob a bank?"
Jamie finally found her voice. “You can't tell anyone about this, Kit. Swear it to me, okay?"
Kit held out her hands, palms up. “Who would I tell? The sheriff?"
"Oh, lord, no. Please, Kit. Swear to me.” She hugged the dirty bag to her chest.
"Okay, okay. My lips are sealed. Now give."
Jamie told her the story of cleaning her father's bedroom and finding the money in the closet, then hiding it in her own room.
"A good thing,” Kit told her. “Otherwise it would be gone for sure.” She frowned. “Where do you think he got all this money, anyway?"
"I have no idea.” She waved a hand around. “Look at the way he lived. And this is after I've been cleaning for two days."
Kit nibbled on her lower lip. “There's really something funny about all this."
Jamie snorted. “No kidding. Tell me something I don't know."
"Maybe you're not so far off about your father's death, either. Whatever he was getting paid for, you can bet it wasn't legal. He might have done something to piss someone off."
"Not surprising.” Jamie stuffed the bag back in the hidey hole. “He could do that even when he was minding his own business."
Kit reached out and put a hand on Jamie's arm before she pushed the board back in place. “Wait. Before you do that."
"What? I need to keep this hidden."
"Look at this place. You can't stay here now. Not with all this damage. We need to go to a motel, and you're going to need some money."
Jamie's face heated, and she knew her skin was flushed an embarrassing red. “I, um, already took some out of here."
"You did? How much?"
Jamie dropped her voice. “Ten thousand."
"Holy shit! Well, all right. But if we're leaving here, you can't just leave the money."
Jamie shook her head. She could almost hear the wheels in Kit's brain turning. “We're not going anywhere. Period."
"For god's sake. Be reasonable.” Kit jumped to her feet and began pacing. “You don't even have a bed to sleep in. For either of us."
Jamie's jaw set in a stubborn line. “I'm not leaving. Someone wants me out of here, and they aren't getting their wish. And besides, Wild Blue is coming to install my Internet connection tomorrow."
Kit stared at her, speechless, then burst out laughing so hard she had to sit down on the floor, holding her sides while tears rolled down her cheeks. “You are the end of it all, Baby Bear. Your house is a shambles, you don't have a single stick of furniture left, and you're worried about your Internet connection."
Laughter bubble up inside her at the silliness of the situation. It was the first good laugh she'd had in months. “I know, I know. But I'm staying and that's that."
"Speaking of your computer, I'm guessing they didn't get it if you're so worried about Internet service."
"No. It's in my car. Oh, my god.” She jumped up. “I almost forgot. The groceries. We left them in the car."
"I'll get the groceries. You call the sexy sheriff. No, don't argue. You're a citizen of his county, and you've had a vicious break-in. If you don't call him, I will."
While Kit stashed food in the cupboards and the fridge, Jamie reluctantly made the call to Zane. She waited for him, still in a state of shock, fighting the tears that threatened to burst forth. Fifteen minutes later, he skidded into the driveway so fast gravel spewed everywhere. He was almost running when he hit the porch and slammed open the door. His eyes took in the scene, and a look of rage spread across his face.
"The asshole who did this better hope someone restrains me when I get hold of him.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Jesus, Jamie. It's a good thing you weren't here."
"I can't even make coffee.” She tried to keep her voice even and controlled, but inside she was still shaking. “They even broke the coffee pot."
Zane walked slowly through the house, making careful notes in a small notebook as he did. Jamie let him go upstairs by himself. She didn't think she could look at the destruction in her bedroom one more time. When he came downstairs, he went out to his car, returned with a digital camera, and did his tour all over again.
She sat on the bottom step, drinking a cold soda and trying to hold herself together. All she could think about was Zane in her bed that morning and the seemingly unbreakable sexual thread that held them together.
At the moment he was striding through her destroyed house, and she felt as if he were walking through the ruins of her life. She looked at Kit, who was doing her own visual survey of the house. Kit, who jumped on a plane without a second thought because she was sure Jamie was finally coming unglued. One look and she'd be damn sure of it.
The hits just kept on coming. When would her luck ever start to turn? Hadn't she paid enough for her stupidity? She'd lost nearly every dime she had as well as her condo in the law suit. Selling her furniture to give herself some cash, she'd left town with her clothes, her car, and her laptop. Now even her clothes were tainted. She was mortified that Zane and Kit should see her in this broken down condition, sure she'd have a tug of war to keep control over things.
When Zane finished, he crouched beside her and took one of her small hands in his larger one. “This wasn't just kids making mischief,” he told her, concern in his eyes. “Someone was looking for something specific. And they wanted to send you a message while they did it.” The look in his eyes hardened. “I don't suppose you'd have any idea what that is, would you?"
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Jamie turned her head away, sure the guilt would show on her face, or her liar sign would light up and flash. “No, I don't."
"Are you sure?” he probed.
"Are you calling me a liar?’ she challenged. “Gee, thanks a lot, asshole."
"Jamie—"
"Just do what you have to and let me be, okay?"
He gripped her chin in his other hand, forcing her to look at him. “I understand your hostility. I'd feel the same way. But I'm just doing my job here. I'll make out a report on this and start asking around. And I'm telling you as I stand here, you can't stay here. It isn't safe."
"I told her the same thing.” Kit tapped her foot. “I'm trying to get her to go to a motel with me, but she won't budge."
"I'm not leaving my house.” Jamie wanted to smack someone. Tears burned at the back of her throat. “Everything else is gone. This is all I have left."
Zane forced her to look at him. “Darlin', someone wants to do you some serious damage. Don't put yourself in harm's way."
"I'm not leaving,” she repeated stubbornly and stood up. “I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. And I'm not your darlin', damn you."
His face tightened and irritation flashed in his eyes, but he didn't bite back at her. He and Kit did their best to argue with her, but Jamie refused to listen. This was the last place she had on earth and she might hate it, but no one was chasing her out of it.
"Fine.” Zane threw up his hands. “I can see it's no use arguing with you."
"If you plan on staying, we need to get this mess cleaned up.” Kit looked around at the devastation. “I think it will take backs stronger than ours."
"I can get that handled,” Zane said, punching a number into his phone.
"And we need furniture,” Kit said. “Is there any place in this dust bowl to buy any?"
"Palmer's on Main Street,” Jamie told her. “But..."
"Palmer's on Main Street. It sounds like a line from a bad comedy routine. Will they deliver?"
Zane snapped his phone shut. “If they won't, I can get my truck and someone to help me. You don't need to fill up the house."