by Mary Burton
Irritated that his thoughts wouldn’t stay away from Greer, he moved with purpose to the front register where a tall brunette studied him with resentment. “Ranger Tec Bragg. I’m here for Jennifer Bell.”
The two customers on the floor stared with obvious curiosity, which unsettled the woman more. “I’m Jennifer Bell. Why don’t we go back in my office?”
Turning, she pushed through the curtains, nodding as she vanished into the back.
He followed knowing if she were a man he’d not tolerate her walking away like that.
She faced him, manicured, long fingers resting on trim hips. “Greer sent you, didn’t she?”
Her tone had his hackles rising and his loyalty demanding he rise to Greer’s defense. “No one sends me anywhere.”
Silver earrings jangled as she shook her head from side to side. “You wouldn’t know about me if not for Greer.”
If he’d not been studying her closely, he’d have missed the flash of pain in her gaze. “Why do you say that?”
Disdain flattened her lips and covered the momentary flash of hurt. “Because my family paid well to ensure the past stayed in the past.”
“And what past might that be?”
With a flick of her wrist she attempted to dismiss him. “Don’t play stupid with me. She told you everything.”
Other than telling him the two women had met at Shady Grove, Greer had not told him anything about Jennifer’s past. But he’d baited hooks before with skimpier morsels. “I know about Shady Grove.”
Her face flushed and for a moment she closed her eyes before she met his gaze again. “I can’t believe she told you. You know, I actually felt sorry for her once.” She shook her head. “Nothing good would come of it when she showed up. What did she tell you?”
He resisted the urge to defend Greer’s loyalty to Jennifer. “I got a real good idea of the whole picture.”
Painted red lips pursed. “She is such a bitch. Such a bitch. Fucking past. I’ve paid for it enough.”
Bragg’s hackles rose higher. A second or two longer and he’d speak his mind. “Tell me about her.”
She reached behind her and picked up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With a steady hand she lit the tip. After a couple of puffs, she said, “She really sent you?”
“No one sends me.”
“But you are here.” She shook her head, her disgust clear. “She always came off as caring and sweet at camp. I had sympathy for her. Thought I could trust her. Thought if I told her she’d understand. Now I realize trust is for fools.”
The woman’s words mirrored his brand of cynicism. Jennifer judged Greer unfairly and he’d been guilty of the same. “She told you about Rory and Sara.”
He wasn’t here to answer questions but to ask them. “When was the last time you saw Sara or Rory?”
“Rory. That was years ago. At least ten years. His mother was still alive so his family hadn’t cut him off. It was the Western Country Club, and he was drunk. In fact, I think he tried to hit me up for money.” She shook her head. “Jerk.”
“And Sara?”
“A couple of years. We saw each other around town and were polite but we didn’t really speak.”
He dangled another bit of bait into the waters. “Greer told me everyone at the camp tried to commit suicide.”
Green eyes narrowed. “I guess she also told you I popped a handful of pills.”
He let the silence goad her.
“Why couldn’t she let the past stay buried? We’ve all gotten on with our lives. No good could come of going back and dredging up what couldn’t be changed. There’s no changing past mistakes.”
He remained silent, watching.
“You know I saw the picture of her in the paper six months ago. She’d just joined the board of a crisis center. I remember thinking, ‘Can’t you stay hidden?’ She couldn’t let her past stay past; she had to drag all that shit up to help others.”
Greer acknowledged that she’d never forget her mistakes, but she was moving forward, whereas Jennifer hadn’t let go. “She’s done some good work.”
“This may be wrong of me, but I don’t care. She’s stirring up the past and it will come to no good. No good. There’s nothing any one of us can do to change the past. Nothing. All we can do is try to live our lives, which is what I’m trying to do.”
“Why do you want to keep it buried? Everyone makes mistakes.”
Her face paled a fraction as if a fear chased up her spine. “There are some mistakes one can’t recover from. Those mistakes have to be buried and forgotten.”
“Like your suicide attempt?”
She swallowed as if forcing back bile and fear. “Christ, what do you think my boyfriend would say if he knew? Do you think I’d still have a business? No, that kind of past chases people away. It keeps you in the ‘freak’ category forever.” Her voice dropped to a pained whisper.
“You seen anyone else from your pod at Shady Grove?” With luck she’d toss him a name, and he’d have another piece of the puzzle.
“I saw Sam a few months ago.”
“Was that his real name?”
Her gaze sharpened. “No.”
“Do you know what it was?”
A half smile tweaked the edge of her mouth. “He was wearing a name tag that read ‘Michael Sycamore.’”
A solid, real name. “Did you talk?”
“No. He saw me. I saw him. And with one glance we both agreed not to speak to the other. Nothing personal. Just keep your distance.” She arched a brow. “Greer didn’t tell you about him?”
“No. She didn’t know his real name.”
“Or if she had she’d have told you. Figures.” She sighed.
“See who he worked for?”
“No.”
“Anything else you can tell me about him?”
“No. And he won’t welcome a visit from you, either. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about the camp. He was with a woman. Pretty. Blond and wearing a big engagement ring.” She shrugged. “I notice details like that.”
“Why was Michael at the camp?”
“Greer didn’t tell you? She’s in a talkative mood these days.”
“I’m asking you.”
She studied him a long moment. “He threatened to shoot himself. He was caught stealing from his parents. And not just nickels and dimes. He stole nice pieces from the house and was selling them.”
“Why’d he need the money?”
“That’s the thing, he didn’t need the money. He just liked stealing. His father found out and threatened to cut him off, and he freaked out. He took one of his father’s pistols and pressed it to his head. His father tackled him and sent him to Shady Grove.”
“Where is he now?”
“Houston, I think.” She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s all I know. So would you and your little snitch leave me alone?” She pointed her finger at him. “I don’t want my name in the press.”
His patience now paper-thin, he bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile. “I don’t take orders from you.”
She arched a brow, leveling what she must have thought was a withering gaze. He suppressed a laugh. He’d handled far worse than this woman could ever dish out.
A faint flush colored her face and when she raised her cigarette to her mouth her hand trembled slightly. She held his gaze a beat longer and then dropped it. “Just leave me alone.”
“Don’t think this is finished, Ms. Bell. I’ll do whatever I have to do to solve this case.”
She stubbed out her cigarette into a crystal ashtray. “Be careful of Greer, Ranger Bragg. She’ll get into your head. Like she wormed in Rory’s. Like she got into Sara’s and mine. And once she sinks her claws into you and you think you can trust her, you’re done.”
Bragg glared at Jennifer, surprised her words hit the mark. Greer had gotten into his head.
Michael stared at the letter from his attorney, anger boiling so hot in him that he thought his head would e
xplode. He’d reread the letter several times and each time the outcome was as grim as the last. He was being sued. For money they said he’d stolen.
Crushing the paper in his hands, he rose and moved to a simple wooden kitchen table where a half-empty bottle of scotch stood. He grabbed a chipped mug from a rustic kitchen cabinet and filled it to the brim with scotch. It might be morning but he didn’t care. Maybe getting piss drunk would dull the outrage thumping in his chest.
He took a long, even drink. The liquid slid down his throat, burning a little as it passed. Moving to the window, he stared out into the rolling hills. He’d not been to the family cabin in a decade and the place had fallen into disrepair since his father’s illness. In truth, he really didn’t like the place. But it was his only sanctuary now.
Turning, he picked the balled letter off the floor and read it again.
Dear Mr. Sycamore: This letter is to inform you that Jay & Brighten Accounting firm will be filing suit against you in one week if the two million dollars in question are not returned. Though your termination cannot be revoked, restoration of funds will avoid the suit and legal action.
He’d worked for that company for eight years. He’d brought in more business than many of the partners. He was a goddamned rising star. And because some asshole couldn’t add numbers, he was being accused of theft.
He hadn’t stolen a dime. Not a red cent. And he’d fight these charges as long as he had breath in his body.
Pressing the cup to his throbbing temple he closed his eyes. He’d been fired. Was being sued. And his fi-ancée had returned the ring. Even his old man wasn’t speaking to him.
Fuck.
Life was crushing him to death.
He couldn’t go on like this.
But he would. He would find a way.
Bragg left Jennifer’s annoyed. He wasn’t sure if he was irritated because she’d been difficult or her warning about Greer had struck a nerve. Like it or not, Greer had struck a nerve. Not good.
As he pushed through the doors of Ranger headquarters and made his way to his office, he put a call in to Winchester. The call landed in voice mail, so he left a message requesting he find Michael Sycamore. As he gave what details he had on the man, he tossed his hat aside and then ended the call. He shrugged off his coat before sitting behind his desk and opening Greer’s accident file Deputy Eric Howell had given him.
Bragg opened the file and studied the photos of the mangled car. He cringed and wondered how Greer could have survived the accident.
This accident didn’t relate to the cases on his desk. It was over a dozen years old. And yet it had been the catalyst for the events that drove Greer to Shady Grove and for someone to kill two people in Greer’s pod.
David Edwards had been clear he didn’t like Greer’s association with his brother. But it was Sydney Dowd’s brother, Rick, who’d confronted her. Rude and pushy didn’t necessarily make him a killer, but he was the lone person now linking the present to the past. And the man had hassled Greer, which in his book was reason enough to pay the man a visit.
It didn’t take much checking to discover Dowd now worked as a vet and ran a large animal clinic ten miles outside of Austin. Dowd’s practice was successful and enjoyed a solid reputation. His clinic cared for many of the area’s most elite thoroughbreds.
Bragg drove west until concrete transformed to rolling green hills. He followed directions through a couple of small towns until he found the white building and barn at the edge of town.
The freshly painted building had a bright bold welcoming sign. He parked in the small gravel parking lot and moved down the sidewalk to the main door. Inside he found a receptionist, a young girl about fifteen years old. Dark hair swept up into a thick ponytail accentuated wide brown eyes and high cheekbones.
She grinned up at him. “How may I help you?”
He softened his expression, which on a good day could pass for a scowl. “I’m looking for Dr. Dowd.”
Bright eyes flickered with recognition. “That’s my dad. You have an animal that needs tending?”
“No, ma’am. I’m with the Rangers and have a couple of questions.”
“Is it a question I might be able to answer? I’ve been working here since May.”
“I appreciate the offer, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “But your dad is the fellow I need to see.”
“Dad’s in the barn out back. He’s the only one out there now so he won’t be hard to find. I’d go with you but I’m answering phones now.” On cue, the phone rang.
“I should be able to find it if you point me to the right path.”
“Sure.” The young girl directed him to a barn where he’d find Dowd in a back stall examining a black gelding. She then picked up the phone. “Dowd Animal Clinic.”
As Bragg left the clinic and walked toward the barn, he thought about Greer’s caller last night. A woman. Sounded young. Could Dowd have put his daughter up to the call?
Frowning, he found Rick Dowd in the barn exactly where his daughter had described. The vet had light hair that brushed the top of his collar and his skin was fair, leaving Bragg to assume the little girl up front favored her mother. Dowd wore dark glasses and a jean jacket smeared with mud.
Waiting until the vet stepped away from the animal, Bragg said, “Dr. Dowd?”
Dowd grabbed a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. His expression was mild, his smile genuine when he met Bragg’s gaze. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
Bragg waited until the man had exited the stall and closed the gate behind him. “Name’s Ranger Tec Bragg. I’m with the Texas Rangers.”
Dowd nodded as he wiped his hand on a rag. “I saw the star right away. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to ask you questions about Elizabeth Greer Templeton.”
The doctor’s expression hardened. “Did she send you to talk to me? Be like her to stir up trouble.”
Whatever goodwill Bragg had mustered vanished. His gaze sharpened. His stance tensed. “She mentioned you’d had words at the feed store the other day. I thought I’d ask you about it.”
Shaking his head, he shoved the rag back in his pocket. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything to her. Christ, it’s been twelve years. But seeing her took me by surprise. I guess because she looked so good. Pretty and happy. Suddenly it didn’t seem right she’d be moving around, laughing and smiling, and my sister was dead and buried in the ground for more than a dozen years.”
“I’ve read a good bit about the accident. According to the medical examiner your sister had well over the legal limit of alcohol in her system.”
Dowd shook his head. “She might have had a beer or two at the party, but the fact remains she did not get behind the wheel of the car.”
“She’d been drunk enough to let a fifteen-year-old drive.”
His face crumbled with the kind of blame rising from too many nights of second-guessing and what ifs. “I told her not to drink that night.”
“But she did.”
“She wasn’t driving,” he insisted.
“No, sir, but her judgment was impaired.”
“Where the hell is this going?”
“I did a little digging. Your sister worked for you here at the clinic?”
“That’s right. I’m eight years older than Sydney and with Mom and Dad’s help I had set up this place. Sydney knew I couldn’t afford an assistant so she volunteered to help out.” He hesitated, as if emotion clogged his throat. “I always looked out for Sydney. She followed me everywhere, always chewing on my ass.” The words were spoken with tenderness, not malice. “That summer she was working here, mucking stalls and helping me with the animals.”
“She’d been a student at the University of Texas.”
“That’s right. Biology. Honor roll. She’d talked about going to vet school and joining me in my practice.” As he recounted the facts of his sister’s life, his jaw set as if the telling stoked the embers of his anger.
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“And she dated Jeff Templeton?”
“That’s right. For about six months. Our family didn’t have the kind of money his family did. They ran in the highest circles. We warned her his kind used girls like her, but she always defended him. She said he loved her.”
“How’d they meet?”
“At UT. She’d taken courses at UT the spring of her senior year of high school. She was pretty smart. He was a junior.”
“You were vocal after the accident. You pressed for the lawsuit against the Templetons.”
His jaw hardened. “Not right she’d just get away with it. Her bullshit story about another driver was an insult. I wanted her to feel my loss.”
“She lost her brother.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t want to hear. “She was reckless. I’ve seen how it goes with the rich. I’ve worked with enough of them. Money can buy you out of all kinds of trouble.”
He rested his hand on his hip. “You think money bought Greer out of trouble?”
“I think she’d been drinking. I think she shouldn’t have been behind the wheel, and I think she made up the second driver to cover her tracks. And her family backed her up.”
His index finger tapped against his belt. “Did you know she’d stayed in Austin after the accident?”
“I know after she tried to kill herself she vanished. I asked around but wherever she went no one was talking. Eventually, I had to give it up and move on with my life.”
“And you ran into her by accident at the feed store?”
He shook his head, astonishment evident. “Yeah. Like seeing a ghost from the past.”
“And you confronted her.”
“She’d been laughing. And it made me mad. I can promise you if my sister had been driving that car twelve years ago and she’d killed Elizabeth and her brother she’d have done jail time.”
“Greer was fifteen and sober.”
“Sober. Right. Families like the Templetons can make donations to the sheriff’s reelection campaign and ugly facts like a drunk daughter vanish.” His fingers curled into fists before relaxing a fraction.