Covert Cootchie-Cootchie-Coo

by Ann Voss Peterson

  “You were afraid of a twelve-pound infant until pretty recently.”

  He let out a chuckle. It felt good to laugh, especially at a topic Josie wouldn’t have been joking about only a couple of days before. “Fair enough. Except for that. Compared to poopy diapers, dealing with Judge Teddy Wexler is going to be a piece of cake.”

  They located the judge easily enough. He was lunching in his chambers in the county courthouse. Unfortunately, finding him and talking to him were two totally different things.

  “I’m sorry. The judge is very busy. If you’d like to make an appointment, I might be able to help.” The older woman gave them a patronizing smile. “Now what’s the name?”

  “Honey Dawson,” Josie said.

  The woman’s smile fell from her shiny pink lips.

  Reed did his best to check the laugh struggling to break free. “Too bad. We were hoping to talk to him here. I guess we’ll have to make the drive out to the Wexler Ranch. I hate to bother Mrs. Wexler.”

  The woman held up a finger. “Why don’t I check with the judge? Maybe he can adjust his schedule.”

  Reed nodded. “Maybe he can.”

  As soon as the woman walked from the room, Josie smiled up at him. “Damn, we make a good team.”

  Reed couldn’t argue. He’d never seen himself as part of a team with anyone, not even during his backup quarterback stint with the Springton Stallions. But this wasn’t high school. And Josie was put together far better than any football player he’d ever seen. “I’d like to see how good.”

  As his meaning dawned on her, her smile faded.

  “Oh, come on. I’m not such a bad guy.”

  “Maybe not. But that’s beside the point.”

  There she went again. Still, he should be happy her opinion of him had seemed to improve. Something he would surely screw up if he kept teasing her this way.

  “The judge does have a few minutes to see you,” the secretary said walking back into the room. She held up a finger. “Only a few, mind you. He has a very busy afternoon.”

  “I’m sure he does.” On the way to the judge’s chambers, they’d checked the docket for his courtroom. No business was going on, not a single hearing. Of course official business wasn’t what the judge was necessarily best at.

  They followed the woman through the small suite of offices. She stopped at an imposing door and rapped with her knuckles as she pushed it open and motioned them inside.

  The judge sat at a mahogany desk. Surrounded by shades of gold and rich burgundy, he looked like a king sitting on his throne. No doubt, that was precisely the image he wanted to project.

  As soon as Reed stepped through the door, the air closed in around him, heavy and lacking in oxygen. It was the same feeling he’d had as a kid the few times he’d been in the judge’s presence, and suddenly he had the urge to walk with his head down, the posture he’d seen his mother adopt around people like the Wexlers. The posture of a whipped dog.

  “Have a seat.” The judge motioned to two leather wing chairs positioned in front of his desk.

  Josie perched on the edge of one of the chairs. Keeping his chin up and back straight, Reed remained standing.

  Except for the gray that now dominated his hair, Judge Teddy Wexler looked just as Reed remembered. Brash, cocky and powerful. Even the way he sat had a swagger. A cross between cowboy and executive. He peered over the top of his reading glasses. “You don’t sit, son?”

  “We have some questions to ask you.”

  “And you can’t ask them while sitting?”

  Reed didn’t move. “Where is Honey Dawson?”

  “Honey Dawson?” the judge parroted, as if he’d never heard the name. He narrowed his eyes on Reed. “I know you, don’t I?”

  “We know you were involved with Honey. We also know you sent a man to San Francisco to find her.” He’d debated being this aggressive with the judge, wondering if polite questions would get him further. But in the end, he sensed that winning the judge’s respect up front was the best way to approach him. And the only way to do that was to come out swinging. When it came down to it, aggression was all the judge really respected. “What is the man’s name, and where is Honey now?”

  “I don’t know what man you’re talking about. But it is true that I’m looking for Honey.”

  “Why? What do you want with Honey?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the twins she gave birth to last summer, would it?”

  The judge slipped off his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. I also take it you are responsible for the man following Honey. A man who has been seen with a gun. A man who hit one woman over the head and put out a cigarette on another when she wouldn’t tell him where Honey went.”

  “I don’t know what you’re babbling about.”

  “You need a better answer than that. The San Francisco police have a description of the man, and witnesses who saw him try to hurt one of the children.” An exaggeration, admittedly, but he needed to shock the judge. Surprise him enough that he dropped his guard. “I’d say it’s only a matter of time before they find this hit man…and the judge who hired him.”

  “You think I hired a hit man?”

  Reed wasn’t sure if the incredulous response was real or put on, but there was one way to find out. He pushed on. “The guy is from Dallas. He was looking for Honey, looking for her babies.”

  The judge leaned forward and tilted his head to the side, as if he was sure he hadn’t heard Reed right. “You think I want to hurt Honey and her babies?”

  “No, why would we think that?” Reed let sarcasm drip from each word. The thought that Honey had anything to do with this man made him want to puke.

  “The only person I know who might want to hurt Honey is a man named Neil Kinney.”

  “The stalker?” Josie asked.

  The judge tilted his head in Josie’s direction. “He was released on probation about a month ago.”

  Reed could feel Josie focus a questioning look on him. He shook his head. “I’ve seen Kinney. That wasn’t him in San Francisco.”

  “Maybe Mr. Kinney sent the man you’re talking about. All I know is it wasn’t me. I have no reason to want to hurt Honey.”

  Josie crossed her legs. “But you have reason to want to find her, don’t you? Or should I say you have reason to find her babies?”

  Leaning back in his chair, the judge gave a low chuckle. “You’re right, young lady. But not for the reason you think.”

  An uncomfortable twinge bit down on the back of Reed’s neck. The judge’s sudden smugness wasn’t a good sign. Not good at all. He had the urge to take that invitation to sit, just in case the judge was about to pull the rug out from under him.

  “I remember how I know you. It’s Tanner, right?”

  Reed didn’t answer.

  “This is all some kind of wild misunderstanding, Tanner. I didn’t hire anyone to run around San Francisco assaulting babysitters and waving a gun. But I am looking for Honey—” He held up a hand. “No, no, that’s not exactly true. I don’t give a stitch about Honey Dawson. It’s the twins I’m looking for.”

  “You’re their father?” Josie asked.

  The judge spread out his hands, as if that was a given. “So you see, I have no reason to want to hurt them.”

  Reed blew a derisive breath through his nose. “I can think of a lot of reasons. Your wife. The scandal. Child-support payments for eighteen years. If you really are the twins’ father, you have every reason to want Honey and those babies to disappear.”

  The judge thrust up from his chair and swaggered over to the credenza. He picked up a photo, rubbing his thumb around the frame’s edge as he studied the image. An image Reed knew all too well. “Tell me, Tanner. Does your father keep this picture on his desk?”

  Reed clenched his teeth. The judge was well aware that he didn’t know his old man. That Reed’s fath
er had left long before that photo was taken. It was the big scandal in Springton at the time. A scandal his mother’s subsequent drinking problem only made linger.

  “I’ll bet he does. You see, there’s no prouder moment in a man’s life than when his son excels.” He turned the picture toward Josie, giving her a good look. “State champion in high school football. That’s a big deal in this state. A big deal. And there’s my boy, Teddy Jr. First-string quarterback for the state-champion team.”

  “Congratulations,” Josie said dryly. “But I’m afraid I don’t see what this has to do with Honey Dawson and her twins.”

  “It has everything to do with them.”

  Josie raised her brows.

  He set down the photograph. Giving the frame one last caress, he strolled back to his desk, drawing out the moment like a stage actor. “A man lives for the success of his children. Their accomplishments are the realization of his dreams. The legacy he leaves behind. His taste of immortality. Stuff you can only understand if you have a child. Problem is, some children stop producing. I haven’t had any of those moments for a long time.”

  “And you see Honey’s twins as a chance to collect more trophies?” Josie prodded.

  “I see my twins as a chance to collect more, darling. A boy and a girl? Not much better than that. And between my athleticism and Honey’s looks, those babies have success written all over them. They’ll give me a chance to collect a lot more. Makes you want to have two of your own, doesn’t it, Tanner?”

  Reed knew there was a chance the judge was Troy and his sister’s father. That’s why they’d come to see him. But hearing him brag about it as he had with the picture of the football team and the fact that Reed never knew his father…The whole thing made him want to puke. Or just punch the judge in the face. It had to be a lie.

  Josie held up her hands, palms out. “Let me get this straight. So you believe the twins are yours. And you have people looking for Honey and the babies?”

  “I never denied that.”

  Reed had heard enough. He wanted to take the guy out. Bloody his nose. Make him experience a little of the fear Honey must have tasted. The fear that drove her to fly all the way to San Francisco, to leave her child alone on his boat before sunrise. “Your man had a gun. He burned one woman and put another in the hospital.”

  The judge shook his head, as if sorely disappointed in Reed. “Not my man. My people are lawyers. They aren’t trying to hurt anyone. And neither you nor the San Francisco police are going to be able to prove anything different. I want to find those children. I want to welcome them into my family. I want to bring them home where they belong.”

  “DO YOU THINK HE’S TELLING the truth?”

  Reed gripped the steering wheel and merged with the traffic buzzing along the freeway. He didn’t want to believe any of it. Not one word. The thought that Judge Teddy Wexler was Troy’s father…He just couldn’t see it. “I think he’s full of it.”

  “Sure?”

  “You think he’s telling the truth?”

  “I think if Troy and his twin sister are his, it means they aren’t yours. It’s what you wanted.”

  He squirmed in his seat. He could feel Josie’s gaze boring into him, trying to read his emotions, his thoughts. Maybe if she figured it out, she could tell him. God knew he couldn’t figure it out himself. “So you think the twins are his now?”

  “The judge seems sure.”

  “Or at least that’s what he’s telling us.”

  “Why would he lie? If he did hire the guy in San Francisco to make the problem go away, it seems stupid to admit the problem is true. And if he actually wants to raise his babies—”

  “They aren’t his babies.” He didn’t know why he’d said it. He didn’t even know he was going to, not until the words had already left his lips.

  Josie’s head snapped around. She opened her mouth, then shut it without a word.

  “Troy doesn’t look anything like him.”

  Tires hummed on pavement. Hot wind whistled through Josie’s open window.

  He wished she would say something. Anything. “You don’t think he does, do you?”

  “You don’t want to know what I think.”

  He probably didn’t. But he couldn’t stand her silence for another second. Whether she was judging him or had already condemned him, he’d rather know than sit here in the dark. “Try me.”

  “I think this has little to do with Troy and his sister. I think when it comes down to imagining Honey sleeping with Teddy Wexler when she already had you…getting pregnant with his babies…your ego can’t handle it.”

  Her judgment of him slammed into him like a kick upside the head. Was that it? Were his doubts all about an insult to his manhood? “I have to admit, the thought makes me a little sick. But that’s not all about this that’s rotten. The timing doesn’t work out.”

  “The timing?”

  “You guessed Troy is three months old, right? Add that to nine months, and she hadn’t started with Wexler yet.”

  “She was still with you.”

  “Yes.” He waited for the dizziness to assault him, the pressure to weigh him down, the tightness to grip his throat. But nothing happened. “The twins must be mine.”

  “If guessing a baby’s age was a science. And if the world worked according to standard timetables.”

  “What?”

  “We’re only talking about a two-or at the most three-week time frame.” Her voice dropped, lending more emphasis to each word. “You can twist that to prove whatever outcome you want.”

  He gripped the wheel and stared out at the road ahead, as if the straight-shot highway took every ounce of his concentration. She was right. He could see the facts how he wanted, just as the judge could. So did that mean he wanted the babies to be his? He couldn’t answer that. He didn’t know. But with each hour he and Josie and Troy spent together, the more he could imagine being the little guy’s dad. The more he could imagine something between him and Josie. And the more he felt those might not be bad things.

  “How about Jimmy?”

  “How about him?”

  “He’s in love with her, you know.”

  He hadn’t thought about it when he and Honey were dating, but he couldn’t deny it now.

  “And judging from the way he reacted, he slept with Honey, too. After you told her you were leaving.”

  He held up a hand. “You don’t have to spell it out. I get it. Jimmy could be the babies’ father, too. But he wouldn’t send some guy with a gun after her.”

  “You sure he’s not the jealous type?”

  “I can’t imagine it.” But then just a few days ago, he couldn’t imagine himself as a father, either. Now it was getting, not easy, but possible.

  “Jealousy would give him motive whether the babies are his or not. He loves her, and if she didn’t return that love…” She let her voice trail off, allowing him to fill in the rest.

  A weight descended on his shoulders. Jimmy was jealous of him. He always had been. But Honey had trusted Jimmy. He was her friend. Her confidant. It had been hard for her to make girlfriends. With women, she’d always felt competitive, and most of them had been jealous of her. It was no wonder she didn’t trust them. But she’d trusted Jimmy. The thought that she might now be running from him was tragic.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. The same green pickup trailed behind that he’d seen after they’d driven by Honey’s apartment. “Strange.”

  “What is it?”

  “What do you think the odds are of a car following our exact path from Dallas to Springton?”

  She twisted in her seat, straining to see out the back window. “Which one?”

  “The green truck.”

  “Are you sure it’s following us?”

  “Pretty sure. And it looks a lot like the one I thought was following us yesterday.” He eased over into the exit lane. “This ought to give us an answer.”

  Springton was pretty small, as far as bed
room communities around Dallas went. It was made up of a few housing developments and a handful of ranches on the outskirts. Big ranches like Wexler Ranch and tiny like the Double Kay. There wouldn’t be too many people with business in this area. The truck shouldn’t take the exit.

  The truck’s yellow turn signal flashed to life. It eased into the exit lane.

  Josie drew in a sharp breath. “What do you want to do?”

  He knew what he wanted to do. Make an abrupt stop, climb out of the car, tire iron in hand, and beat the crap out of whoever was playing this game. Unfortunately he wasn’t sure about the location of the rental’s tire iron. “Too bad you couldn’t bring your gun.”

  “You think it’s the guy from San Francisco? You think he followed us here?”

  “It’s possible. It’s probably not the judge’s people.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Lawyers don’t drive pickup trucks.”

  “That only works if you believe he only has lawyers out looking for Honey.”

  The highway morphed into a country road. Soon, instead of tall buildings, parking lots and shopping malls, they were surrounded by pasture and tangles of mesquite.

  “He just switched on his turning signal. He’s turning into that driveway.

  Reed let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Must be a rancher.”

  He could feel Josie’s glance, as if she wasn’t sure she believed that, either. At least he wasn’t the only one who was paranoid. Paranoia might be the thing that kept them alive.

  Josie collapsed back in her seat, but the tension filling the car didn’t let up. “Maybe our luck is changing.”

  “Maybe.” Only Reed wasn’t sure what it was changing to.

  Chapter Ten