by Mary Burton
“He shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
“You make it sound like it was his fault. I’m the one that swerved off the road.”
He nodded. “It was partly his fault. He was twenty-one and had a blood alcohol three times the legal limit. His girlfriend was equally drunk.”
She shook her head. “I really don’t want to sit here and malign them.”
“I’m not asking you to. But let me be clear. That accident wasn’t all your fault.” He thought about her claims about the second driver, claims the officer at the scene had dismissed. “What can you tell me about the other driver?”
Her gaze sharpened. “No one has ever asked me about him. They think I made him up.”
Desperation radiated from her. Whatever the cops believed, she believed there’d been a second driver. “I’m asking.”
She fingered the bracelets and pursed her lips. “We were driving home. Everything was fine. I was sober. And then the headlights on the road. I didn’t think about it at first. And then he switched into my lane. I thought he’d move, but he kept coming. I hit the horn. And he kept coming. At the last second before we were to cross a narrow bridge I panicked and swerved. I hit the tree. My air bags deployed, but Jeff and Sydney were thrown clear.”
Her hands trembled now and the urge to touch her intensified. “Anything else you can tell me about the second car?”
“Until last night, no.”
“What happened last night?”
“I dreamed about the accident. I dreamed the other driver came up to my car and touched my hair. Told me I’d saved his life.” She shook her head. “I guess the stress of Rory and Sara is pulling all kinds of weird stuff out of my brain.”
“Or a memory.”
“The police never found traces of a second car.”
“By the time you were conscious and mentioned the second car it had rained heavily. If there’d been traces, they were washed away.”
A half smile tugged the edge of her mouth. “It sounds like you believe me.”
“I do.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Really? Why? Everyone else thought I made the second driver up.”
“Summing people up is what I do for a living. I believe you.”
Her gaze softened and held his for a long moment. “Thanks.”
She’d trusted him. Now he’d trust her.
“I believe Sara was murdered.”
Her face paled. “What?”
“We found her car miles away from where we found her body, and she didn’t strike me as the kind of gal who walked that kind of distance especially in heels. There is no record she called a cab or a friend to drive her to the second location.”
A wrinkle furrowed the soft skin between her eyes. “Sara was murdered.”
“Yeah.”
“So she couldn’t have killed Rory?”
“I don’t know how the two figure together. But I’ve two people who both stayed at Shady Grove and both are dead from apparent suicide.” He tapped the edge of his cup with his index finger trying to gauge how much he should tell her. Like a fisherman tosses a baited line in the water, he opted to give her a detail. “I went to Shady Grove the day before yesterday to get the list of kids who were there the same time you were.”
She shook her head. “And I’ll bet you didn’t get much.”
“Not yet. But I will.”
“Use your biggest legal guns on them, Ranger. Their clients paid for supersecrecy, and they expect their secrets to stay buried forever.”
“I’ll get the answers I need.” He frowned. “Has anyone else bothered you lately?”
She sighed. “Rick Dowd. Sydney’s brother.”
“When?” he growled.
“At the feed store the other day. He’s hurting. I know that. But he was rude.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
She met his gaze. “No, don’t. Like I said, he still grieves for his sister, and seeing me was a surprise.”
“Was it a surprise?”
“It was for me.”
“And you’re sure it was for him?”
A wrinkle furrowed her brow. “I assumed so.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, you’ll let this drop and leave him be.”
“I’m not making any promises on that score.” She stared at him as if searching. “What do you want to say?”
“I’m not sure I should. You might go raging out of here.”
He raised a brow. “I don’t rage. Too much.”
His honesty made her smile. She studied him as if she too were doing a little fishing. “I spoke to a woman today who was with me at Shady Grove.”
“I thought you didn’t know any real names.” He fought a surge of frustration.
“I saw her a couple of years ago at a wine festival. She told me the name of her dress shop. I tracked her that way.”
When they’d met and discussed Sara, why hadn’t she told him about this person? But he didn’t press, sensing the brittleness of Greer’s trust.
Carefully she picked up her cup and took a sip. “I visited her yesterday after I talked to you about Sara. I wanted to make sure she was okay.” She tossed him a tentative if not guilty smile. “I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone about her.”
“Why?”
“She has a new life. She doesn’t want to remember the past. When she approached me two years ago, I wasn’t happy to see her. And I don’t think she’d have talked to me if she weren’t a little drunk.”
Secrets simmered in this elite group of the privileged. And if he pushed as much as his gut demanded, she’d scramble back into her ivory tower never to be seen again. And so he did what he didn’t do well. He waited.
She shoved out a breath. “I asked her about Sara. Asked if she’d seen her recently. She hadn’t. Nor had she seen Rory. And like I suspected she didn’t want to talk.”
“What’s her name?”
Her brow furrowed as she studied his face. She wanted to trust him. Wanted to, but wasn’t ready to make the leap. “I told her I wouldn’t reveal her past.”
Greer needed to learn he was a man she could trust. Just like she enticed those nags to trust her, he needed to persuade her. “I can’t protect her if I don’t know her name.”
“She’ll be upset.”
His muscles tightened and pinched with impatience but he kept his voice steady. “Greer, I can’t help her or you if you don’t put faith in me.”
She fiddled with her bracelets.
“Greer. Tell me.”
Her gaze locked on his, she nodded as if deciding to leap. “Jennifer Bell. She owns a dress shop in Austin called Elegance.”
Satisfaction venturing beyond the job burned through him. He’d extended a hand to her and she’d taken it. “I will talk to her.”
Her cheeks flushed as if she’d betrayed a dark secret. “She won’t talk to you.”
“Why do you say that? I can be subtle when I put my mind to it.”
His rare attempt at humor passed her by. “Because she’s afraid her past will be exposed. A lot of the kids at Shady Grove came from families who value status above all else. My parents were like that.”
“And yet you’re talking to me.”
“I left that world behind. For me it was about survival.”
“She might not be as attached to that world as you think.”
“She is.”
“I need to talk to her, Greer. That’s not negotiable.”
Frustration churned in her gaze. “I told you she didn’t keep up with the other two.”
“I’ll ask my own questions during an investigation.”
“Jennifer and I were friends at camp. If she’d planned to talk to anyone, it would have been me.”
“I can be persuasive.”
A frown furrowed her brow. “She’ll know I sent you.”
“If she’s smart, it won’t be a big leap for her.” He leaned forward a fraction, wanting to ease the anxiety rippling through
her. “She doesn’t need to know you sent me.”
“It’s not that. I’m not afraid of what she’ll say. I feel like I’m betraying her. But I’m afraid if I stay silent, she could be hurt.”
“You were right to tell me.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Why did she end up at Shady Grove?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s for her to tell you, not me.”
“How did she try to kill herself?”
“Ask her.”
Bragg admired Greer’s loyalty. When Greer pledged her fidelity he knew it was rare. He wanted her full trust. He wanted her on his side. He wanted her. “Fair enough.”
Bragg rarely offered information during an interview. He took. Didn’t give. But he sensed if he offered her a measure of trust he’d reap more than he gave.
“Red rope bracelets were found at both Rory and Sara’s crime scenes.”
“What?”
“They were made of a standard crafting yarn. Three strands, braided tightly together, and tied in a knot.”
She swallowed. “Sounds like what we had at Shady Grove.”
“Who else knew about the bracelets? Was it a tradition at the camp?”
“No. It was just our pod. My idea. They symbolized our friendship. How would anyone know?”
“That’s what I need to find out.”
“Do you think I could have caused this?”
“No.” He injected harsh determination into the word. “This is not your fault.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t allow this killer to add to your burden.”
She tried a smile, but it failed. “Carrying burdens seems to be my thing.”
Worry flattened her mouth into a thin line, and he wanted to ease it. “I saw that damn ugly dog sleeping with Mitch on the couch at home tonight.”
“That would be Jasper. He’s smart.”
He didn’t miss her defensive tone. She was also a champion of lost dogs. “Well at least the Good Lord didn’t shortchange that dog totally. Where the hell did you find him?”
“Feed-and-seed store. No one wanted him.”
But you took him. “He’s lucky you happened along.”
“I think we’ll find we’re the lucky ones.”
“Maybe.”
A silence settled between them and then finally she sipped her coffee and pushed it away. “The vineyard is calling. There’s much to be done.”
As she rose so did he. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
Her easy acceptance spoke to how much the caller had rattled her. He followed her outside the coffee shop, holding the door for her. She moved quickly but her short strides couldn’t have kept pace with his long legs if he’d walked his normal pace. He slowed his stride and found he liked having her beside him. Liked the way the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Liked the perkiness radiating from her. Liked the curve of her body and the way her hips swayed as she walked.
At her truck she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. She started the engine and rolled down the window. “Go easy on Jennifer. She talks tough but she’s not.”
“You’re always taking care of everyone. Who looks out for you?”
“I do.” She shifted into reverse. “Have a good night, Ranger Bragg.”
“Be careful.”
She smiled. “Always.”
He watched her drive away and with each rotation of her tires, a bone-deep resolve took root. “Going forward, Greer Templeton, I’ll be looking out for you.”
Jackson watched Greer drive away in her truck, wanting to follow, but not daring because the Ranger stood there for a long moment staring after her truck.
“Calling her tonight wasn’t smart,” he said.
“An indulgence, I’ll agree. But I wanted to talk to her. Wanted to connect. You care so much about her. Curiosity got the better of me.”
“You should have stayed out of it.”
She laughed. “That’s not my style.”
“It’s not Greer’s time yet.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t play a little. Want to know what she said?”
He hesitated. He liked watching her and learning new bits of information about her. “Sure.”
“I scared her. She was rattled when I hung up, but she’s smart. She had the call traced.”
“And that’s what brought the Ranger.” He hadn’t been happy with the Ranger. Hadn’t liked the way he’d looked at Greer, as if he’d staked a claim. The Ranger was a miscalculation. An unforeseen complication that had to be managed. But where there was a will, there was a way.
He thought about the Ranger’s raw desire for Greer. The Ranger could want Greer. He could care for her. Desire her.
But in the end the Ranger would not win the fair Greer. He would.
He would grant her dying wish.
And there was nothing the Ranger could do to stop him.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday, June 8, 8 A.M.
Bragg stared at the mangy puppy who ate his food as if he were half starved. The pup had risen early and, to Mitch’s credit, he’d gotten up with the dog and taken him for a walk. Bragg, who’d always been a light sleeper, had gotten up and offered to make coffee and feed the pup while Mitch took his shower. The plan was for Mitch and Jasper to drive out to the vineyard today. With harvest coming, Greer needed all hands on deck. For the next couple of days Mitch and Jasper would bunk at the vineyard with the other workers in the barracks. Mitch didn’t mind a bit.
Bragg cracked a half dozen eggs in a bowl and scrambled them with a fork. When he was alone he didn’t bother with cooking but since Mitch’s return he’d made the effort. At first, Mitch had refused to eat and a lot of eggs and toast had ended in the trash bin. Since Greer, his appetite had returned with a vengeance.
Since Greer.
He let the image of Greer Templeton fill his mind.
When he dropped four strips of bacon in another skillet the pup sniffed, glanced at his food and then back up at Bragg. The dog barked, but kept a watchful eye on the food he already had in his bowl.
“That’s smart. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” He cut off a small piece of bacon and handed it to the dog who greedily accepted it.
Mitch lumbered down the hallway, his hair wet from the shower and slicked back. He wore jeans, a Bonneville T-shirt, and boots. He carried his rucksack packed full with his belongings.
He sat at the table, and Bragg set a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, and bread in front of him. Jasper hustled over to sit by Mitch’s feet. “Have a busy day?”
“Yeah. Got the horses and Greer’s going to explain about the harvest. Everyone at the vineyard helps with the harvest. She’s even got some girl, Danni, coming in to help.”
“The girl from the Crisis Center?”
“I guess.”
Bragg pushed back a budding sense of hope. He didn’t want to hope too much. “You’ve jumped into this with both feet.”
He stabbed a mountain of eggs. “Didn’t mean to. The place just kind of sucked me in before I realized it.”
It wasn’t the place. It was Greer. “Have you seen where you’ll be living?”
“It’s a barracks. Several guys bunk there. A lot like basic but nicer.” He took several big bites.
“How’s Greer as a boss?” The woman stirred up so many questions it was hard to choose which to ask first.
“She’s okay.”
He heard the growl under the last word. “Meaning, what?”
He shrugged. “She can be a pain.”
Bragg held back a smile. He had no doubt. “How so?”
After a moment he hugged out a breath. “She’s making me talk to Dr. Stewart.”
He’d not seen that coming. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m doing everything she asked me.”
“Then why’s she pushing?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t kn
ow. She’s yammering about the wisdom of a professional.”
Holding his breath, he didn’t dare remind Mitch they’d had this same conversation, and that Mitch had turned angry and resentful. They’d had one hell of a fight, but nothing had been resolved. “You gonna do it?”
He loaded his fork with eggs. “She’s sending me into town anyway for supplies on Wednesday and said I could take an extra hour or two and see the doc.”
Getting the boy to open up was like pulling teeth. “So that’s a yes?”
A pause. “Yeah.”
Greer had given his nephew a job, a purpose, and now she had him visiting Dr. Stewart. She was mending the scars left by the war. She’d done more for his boy in a week than he’d been able to do in months.
Gratitude rubbed against a dark restlessness he couldn’t pin down. Physically, he was attracted to Greer. He respected her. He imagined a trust forming between them.
Bragg wanted to be at the vineyard today, working with Mitch and watching Greer. He wanted to be in the hot sun working side by side with her, watching how she handled herself with Mitch and her other employees. He wanted to see how she managed problems. And how she filled out her jeans and T-shirts, both of which he thought about a lot.
He wondered if she dated or if she slept alone. The idea of her in bed with another man had jealousy gnawing at his gut like it never had before.
Greer took up more and more of his thoughts. He could pretend she was a fleeting fancy, but he’d be wrong.
Bragg pulled up in front of Jennifer Bell’s dress shop and grabbed his hat. It was a frilly kind of place not meant for men. A place he’d have avoided if not for work. When he had an overnight date, some would leave behind frilly feminine doodads, sometimes a scent of perfume lingered as a reminder of their evening. He’d rarely noticed let alone cared. And it had been years since a woman had bothered to leave behind reminders. He thought about Greer’s scent lingering on his pillow. He’d not be quick to dismiss any mementos if she left any behind.
Bells jingled over his head as he walked into the shop. A couple of women, glitzy and polished, lifted their gazes from the clothing racks to toss him a speculative glance. Their perfectly styled hair and ritzy outfits had him hankering for the lady who favored jeans, T-shirts, and dusty boots.