Jillian’s smile hardened but remained intact. “Yes. You would say so, wouldn’t you?”
Genuine pleasure coursed through him. Seems he’d struck a chord. “Facts are facts,” he said, adding without pausing, “and we’ve got the booked schedule to prove it. Do you have a reservation? If so, I’d be happy to assist you with your check-in.”
“I do.”
Too bad. Cal extended a hand toward the hotel “Shall we?”
Cal followed Jillian as she walked to the lobby, employing a full hip swagger, most likely for his benefit, though he wasn’t interested. She could shake and shimmy all she wanted, Cal preferred his woman down-to-earth and real. Neither of which applied to Jillian Devane.
While he didn’t find her presence threatening, there was no mistaking the look in Troy’s eyes when he spotted her. He was not happy. Knowing Jillian, Troy had a right to be upset. With a new wife and baby on his hands, the last thing he needed was Jillian working to upset the mix—a real possibility, especially if she was working in cahoots with Jack. Wasn’t it enough Jack was taking Troy to trial? Did his brother need to provoke tension between Troy and Casey by re-injecting Jillian onto the scene?
Troy was under a lot of pressure these days. Trial was scheduled for week after next and without a job, the boy had nothing to do but think. Think about everything he stood to lose should he receive a guilty verdict. Think about his wife and new baby going it alone without him. Think about his horses. Cal was glad he hadn’t lost Spirit. Granted, it wasn’t technically his horse, but Troy connected with the animals, treating each and every animal he worked like it was his own. Troy built layers of trust, bonding with the horses in a way most people never experience. He’d given up drinking, but Cal knew how hard a battle it could be. It was a job you attended every day of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year. Sober himself now for nineteen months, Cal understood the challenge. Desperation pushed a man to his limits. It made him shift priorities. If Troy broke under the pressure, he could easily seek relief from a bottle.
Troy wasn’t the only one caught in a vise-like grip at the moment. Cal’s daughter Emily was arriving in Chattanooga this evening. His ex-wife had agreed to allow the visit, a week-long stay that could turn into two, provided Emily was in agreement. Cal was excited. Nervous, excited, he was set to drive to the airport in a few hours and meet Emily at the gate. Annie wouldn’t be joining him. She decided it was best if he and his daughter took the initial reunion solo. There’d be plenty enough time for visits with her new family during her stay.
A visit complicated by the likes of Jeremiah and Jillian. Jeremiah had made a point of threatening Annie during his last trip to town. If he had thoughts of repeating the gesture, Cal was going to make him wish he’d done otherwise. Her too, Cal mused, following Jillian as she ascended the front steps to the lobby. It wasn’t a coincidence Jillian was in town. Or that Jack’s lighter was found outside the stables. The two had been seen together. Lighter. Fire. A shudder passed through him. Jillian set fires. Jack was facing jail time. Sure, it was possible he’d dropped the lighter back when he attacked Delaney, but if it was in good condition and relatively unscathed, it could be the clue that put Jack in the guilty seat more recently.
Someone deliberately set those horses free. Someone who knew the animals, someone with a motive.
Opening the door for Jillian, more out of habit than courtesy, Cal decided that someone could be his brother, Jack. She, his willing accomplice. Cal didn’t want to even think about what the lighter represented. Not with Jillian on premises. She had a reputation for arson and a heart black with envy and malice.
Chapter Eight
Nick Harris spied the narrow backside of Jillian Devane’s figure as she stood in front of the bar at Whiskey Joe’s. Not his preferred meeting place. Unfortunately he wasn’t in a position to quibble. She’d insisted on the bar and lounge and he accepted. Actually, venue mattered little. This wouldn’t take long, he mused, raking his gaze over the length of her body, her tapered legs draped in denim, her four inch heels par for the course. Nick could envision her face. Cat eyes would turn up at the ends when she smiled, spit daggers when she was angry, accompanied by a flash of temper. Full lips would pout or part, depending on her mood. She’d held an intrigue for him once, an adventure onto dangerous terrain, but when her heart turned spiteful and she turned the sharp end of her blade toward him, the thrill had ceased. She was threatening his family now, and Nick had zero tolerance for her games.
“Jillian,” he murmured, keeping his voice purposefully low as he drew up beside her.
Sliding a hand down the counter, she turned, peering up into his face with a practiced calm. “Amorzhino.” She smiled, her eyes slanting in pleasure. “I was so glad to get your phone call. I knew you’d come to your senses eventually. Your country wife must be leaving you alone much too much,” she purred, tiptoeing her fingers up his chest.
Removing her slender hand from his body, he pressed it back against her chest. Planting his hands to his waistband, he said, “This isn’t a friendly visit. I want to know why you’re here and how you’re mixed up with Jeremiah Ladd.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Couldn’t care less,” he retorted.
Jillian slid her arms around his torso and pushed into him. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve never heard of the man.”
Roughly pulling her arms from him, Nick brought them together, securing them in a single-fisted grip. “I’m not playing games with you, Jillian. Jeremiah was bailed out, with cash. Where did he get it?”
Anger lit up the gold in her eyes, emotion thrashing openly before she snuffed the flames and smirked. “Perhaps he went to a bank?”
“I think it was you.” Nick leaned down, whispering harshly, “I think you contacted the casino in Vegas and paid his marker for him.”
Jillian didn’t shrink from him. He knew she wouldn’t give him the pleasure and certainly not for public consumption. Instead, she held her ground and softened her tone. “Why would I pay money on behalf of someone I don’t know?”
“Because you and Jeremiah share a common goal.”
Hypnotic eyes turned up at the ends as she ushered forth a pout. “Does he want you like I want you?”
A bartender walked up behind Jillian, depositing a martini glass filled with aquamarine liquid. The young man cast a hesitant eye toward Nick’s hold on Jillian’s arms. “Can I get you something to drink, sir?”
Nick shook his head. “No, thanks. I won’t be staying.”
The kid moved down the bar, attending to other patrons.
“You should stay,” Jillian hummed against her burgundy-glossed lips. “I will make it worth your while.”
He wasn’t interested in her tease. Only her end game. “I will figure it out. I will put you two together.”
“Don’t waste your time. The only ‘two’ you should be putting together is you and me.” She winked. “Like the old days.”
Nick released her in a sudden thrust and stepped away from her. He was getting nowhere. While he thought he could detect the lie in her eyes, Jillian’s practiced deception was a mask he couldn’t penetrate. No problem. There were other ways to get at the truth besides attempting to extract it from her up close and personal. “Oh, and by the way, how did you get here so soon? I only called your father forty-eight hours ago.”
“I am a woman of means.” Reaching for her drink, she explained, “You know how I feel about you. When I heard you were looking for me, I rushed here as fast as I could.”
Nick believed her slippery leer suggested differently. “Hope it was worth the expense.”
She brought the Cosmopolitan to her lips, tiger eyes becoming slits as she replied, “Every centavo.”
Jeremiah Ladd sat in his parked car. Tucked away in the heavily wooded section of the property, Cal Foster’s log home was big. Rambling almost. And expensive. Jeremiah didn’t know much about building materials, but he didn’t hav
e to. Two stories in height, the house was lined with porches and connected to smaller structures by breezeways. Late afternoon, the trees around him were drenched in gold, shadows growing across the yard as night came to call. Huge plate-glass windows lined the front and sides, allowing for an unobstructed view of the forest around them. Lights illuminated the walkways, casting glowing beams up trees from their placement along the ground. Bushes and trees around the home had to be newly planted, but appeared as if they’d been there for years. It took money to accomplish that—and lots of it. Jack had been right. His brother was loaded.
But Cal had no right to build his home here. This land rightfully belonged to him. It was his family’s land, not Cal’s. Not Annie’s. Not even her bastard child’s. Old resentment percolated in Jeremiah’s gut. This was his land, yet they were the ones living on it. They were the ones who looted his gold, leaving barely a flake behind for him to salvage. Jeremiah tightened his fist around the steering wheel of his truck. Well, those days were over. Their high-living at his expense was about to come to an end. He would make them sorry they ever pushed him out of his rightful inheritance.
Startling him from his reverie, Jeremiah’s cell phone rang. He yanked it from the center console. “Talk to me.”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I followed him to the highway.”
Jeremiah smiled. “Keep following him.”
“What? For how long?”
“Until I tell you.” Jeremiah pressed the End button.
Until I finish my business here, that’s how long. A little probing of Jack Foster told Jeremiah everything he needed to know. Cal and Annie lived here. Her daughter and punk husband lived in a cabin located farther back. Jeremiah couldn’t see it from here, but he didn’t care. He was here for one reason and one reason only.
Sliding free of his truck, he rallied his anger and walked up to the Foster home. Hustling up the steps, he peered in through the front window and smiled. Annie was home. She was standing in the living room by a desk of sorts, a narrow table pushed up against a wall near what looked to be the entrance to a kitchen. Dressed in a hot pink blouse and white cotton skirt and flats, she looked young and fresh. Pretty. Grinning, he rapped on the door. This should be fun.
Several seconds passed and the door opened. Annie gasped, flinging a hand over her mouth.
Staring into widened blue eyes, Jeremiah chuckled. “Hello, Annie.”
She tried to ram the door closed, but Jeremiah shoved a boot inside, blocking her efforts. He needed some time with her and he was going to enjoy it. “What? Not happy to see me?”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m here to rekindle an old flame.”
Alarm surged in her gaze. “Get out of here, Jeremiah. You’re not welcome here.”
“Awe, Annie. We’re family, you and me. We have a daughter together. Can’t a guy come and pay his respects to the grandmother of his grandchild?”
Her black brow furrowed in suspicion. “Casey told me you showed up at the hospital.”
“I did. Too bad her baby looks like a raisin. Must take after your side of the family.”
Regaining some of her old spite, Annie pushed back, “You get out of here, Jeremiah, before I call the police.”
He laughed, intentionally sharp and derisive. “Oh, you floor me Annie, you really do. Call the police? Doesn’t your family have enough to worry about with the police these days?” Realization instantly cooled her indignation, and he took full advantage. “That’s right. I know about your son-in-law’s legal troubles and I know the law isn’t on your side.” He meant Gavin Shore. Jack boasted about his mother’s connections to the police department and how they did everything but turn Delaney away and kicked her to the curb. Go home, Delaney, and suck it up. He savored a private smile. Jeremiah only wished he could have been there to witness the exchange. Not to worry. He’d be witnessing some of his own glory and soon.
Pushing his way inside her home, Jeremiah looked around and let out a low whistle. “Looks like someone married up in the world.”
Annie marched over to a phone by a plush leather sofa. Supple smooth and littered with pillows, it looked comfortable. Taking stock of the interior, Jeremiah noted the fancy lighting, the rich wood furniture, oversized paintings and cowboy bronze statues and thought this guy had money to burn. Annie set her hand to the phone receiver and glared at him. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
Jeremiah sauntered in farther, tempted to drop to a seat and make himself at home. “Why don’t you call your hubby?” He snickered. “Oh, wait. He’s on a highway on his way out of town.”
The comment served its purpose. The color drained from Annie’s cheeks, her skin ice-cold against the bright flush of her blouse. “What do you want?” she asked.
“Like I said, I wanted to stop by for a visit, rekindle old times.”
“No one here is interested in visiting with you.”
“Tsk, tsk. So different than the girl I used to know in high school. That girl would have kissed my boot if I asked her.”
Annie returned a hooded gaze. “Like you said, so different than today.”
“Too bad. We’re kin, now,” he said, walking toward her, dragging his fingertips along the top of the sofa as he approached her. Keeping a wary eye out for unexpected intruders, he noted the leather was as soft as it looked.
“Funny how we’re all of a sudden kin,” she said, “when for the last twenty years I’ve tried to prove exactly that and you shut me down. Where was your desire to be ‘kin’ then?”
“Oh, Annie. You’re too hard on a man. I only dodged you because you were trying to extort money from me.”
“Extort money from you? How about do what’s right and pay for your child?”
Jeremiah laughed softly. “I never said I wanted a baby with you.” Nearing her, he could feel a palpable fury radiating from her body. Every cell seemed to be vibrating hot and wild. Recalling their days together, it occurred to him she had a passionate side, a very willing passionate side. She certainly knew how to please a fellow when she wanted to. “You and I should’ve spent more time together.”
“Should’ve thought about that before you ran off with my sister, Lacy.”
Jeremiah laughed. Thoroughly enjoying himself, he almost hated to leave. But leave he must. He had bigger fish on his pole than Annie. Though looking into her eyes triggered an old arousal. She had been one of the prettier ones, one of the pure ones in his past. “Didn’t she tell you?” He leaned forward and whispered, “Lacy and I were never more than friends.”
Knowing he had sufficiently incensed Annie, Jeremiah turned on his heel and walked back to the front door. Pausing, he turned and winked. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again before I leave town.” Closing the door on his way out, Jeremiah took pleasure in the sound of her angry shriek. Miss you too, Annie.
Chapter Nine
“May I help you please?”
Staring down at the young woman behind the counter, more girl than woman, he smiled. “Are these real gold?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Fourteen carat.”
Gazing at the gold pendant pulled from the display case, he fondled it between his fingers. It was small, no larger than his thumbnail, but felt solid. “And you said this here was made from the gold they found on this land?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Harris had it mined for the sole purpose of selling here in the hotel. A souvenir from the very earth you visited.”
She smiled, and he smiled back. Replacing the pendant on the small velvet tray, he scanned the case below where rows of similarly formed pendants were displayed. They varied in size, but all were formed in the shape of a wishing well. He stroked the thin tips of his beard and pondered how he was going to pull off his heist. Jeremiah said to steal as many as he could. Take them by the box full if he could swing it. Peering into the big round eyes of the innocent country girl, he
dubbed it would be child’s play. But first he had to get rid of her.
“Would you like to purchase the pendant?”
“Uh... I need to think about it for a minute.”
“Okay,” she chirped, happy as a bird flittering through treetops on a spring morning. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
“I will,” he replied, realizing he knew exactly how he was gonna do it. Snagging a peek toward the front desk, he counted two clerks. Add this one and there were three girls on shift tonight. Three. Dropping a possessive hand over the pendant, caressing the gold chain attached to it, he knew the store was supposed to be closing soon. Sign said five-thirty.
It was about that time, now.
As though giving him time to think over his purchase, the girl moseyed down to the opposite end of the counter, pretending to organize some postcards along the wall. When she turned her back, he bumped his Styrofoam cup. Coke spilled in a rapid slide across the glass counter and onto the floor. “Dag nabbit!” he exclaimed.
She whirled and cried out, “Oh!” Rushing over, she grabbed the oversized cup he bought from a gas station and began wiping ice into the palm of her hand. “Don’t worry about it—it’s okay!”
“I’m so sorry,” he said in the most sincere voice he could muster. Rounding the counter, he crouched down and began making a mess of trying to clean up the dark brown cola currently spreading like a sheet of molasses over the beige stone tile.
“It’s okay. I can grab some towels from the spa.” Bounding up, she ran out of the gift shop and down a hall—in the opposite direction of the front desk.
Chuckling to himself, he remained on his haunches so as not to call attention to himself from the girls at the front desk. Quicker than lightning, he swiped a hand through the case grabbing hand fulls of pendants and chains and anything else that stuck to his fingers. There were three levels of ‘em and he stuffed every single one into his pockets—front, back, wherever they would fit—until the case had been wiped clean. When he yanked open a drawer beneath the shelves, his eyes lit up at the sight of large boxes. He knew from previous experience there would be extra jewelry stored below, and sure enough, here it was. Why she hadn’t locked it was a surprise to him. Maybe the one key that opened the case unlatched the lower drawer at the same time. He’d seen it work that way in a store in Georgia.
Losing Ladd Page 7