Texas Target (An O'Connor Family Mystery)

by Barb Han

  “Dawson, and this is my wife—”

  “Sandy.” She nodded like she’d just answered the last question correctly on a game show. “I know.”

  Summer reined in her confused look because she realized this person might know her sister.

  “I just didn’t realize you were married.” Marcy had one of those voices that grated. Fingernails on a chalkboard sounded like a relief after hearing her speak.

  “Oh, right. I forgot to mention it because we’ve been separated. You know, trying to figure things out.”

  Marcy looked from Dawson to Summer and laughed. “You’ve been busy.”

  She flexed and released her fingers as she felt Dawson’s hand clasp hers. He gave a little squeeze and it grounded her. They had a purpose and the ever-annoying Marcy didn’t get to detract from that. Besides, she didn’t seem very bright, which was a potential gold mine of information for them if they played it right.

  “Your things have been boxed up. Headquarters makes us hold on to them for ninety days after eviction.” Marcy shrugged.

  “Oh. Right. I guess I forgot to keep my rent payments up once I got back together with my husband,” Summer said by way of explanation, ignoring the fact that calling Dawson her husband had just rolled right off her tongue like it was truth. Not being honest hit her at her core but couldn’t be helped if she wanted access to Autumn’s things.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you at first. You look so...different.” Marcy made a show of looking Summer up and down.

  “Well, it’s me.” She had to tamp down the urge to come back with a snarky remark. This wasn’t the right time for pride. “Is it possible to see my belongings?”

  Marcy blew out a sharp breath and gave Summer a death stare.

  “It’s against policy when there’s an overdue rent situation,” she huffed, making her disgust with anyone who was late on rent clear as if the glaring eyes hadn’t done it already.

  “Do you take a credit card?” Dawson stepped up immediately. “I didn’t bring a check with me today.”

  The annoying woman perked up at the sound of payment.

  “We add 3 percent to the outstanding balance,” she warned like that might be a tipping point that caused them to turn around and walk out the door.

  Summer almost laughed out loud. Dawson O’Connor could cover 3 percent and so much more. He could keep the twenty-five thousand dollars in Autumn’s bank account, and Summer would figure out a payment plan to cover her sister’s expenses.

  “Just give me a total.” Dawson smiled and Marcy practically beamed back at him. It was enough to make Summer hold his hand a little tighter. And, yes, she was being territorial.

  Dawson’s smile was meant to disarm Marcy. Summer figured that part out on her own and yet a streak of jealousy still crept in. Keeping a safe distance from her emotions had always been a matter of survival for Summer.

  Despite the magnetic pull toward Dawson and the absolute fire in every kiss that promised so much more than great sex, breaking down her walls would take time and patience. She didn’t even know if it was possible anymore. In every past relationship she’d been afraid of heights and there’d been a cliff in the distance.

  Before Dawson, she wouldn’t consider getting anywhere near the edge. Now? She was starting to think that maybe it could happen. The problem wasn’t the relationship. She knew being with a person as intelligent, kind and respectful as Dawson would set the bar for every future date. When the shine wore off and it ended, she would be shattered.

  Because she wouldn’t be able to keep Dawson at a distance. He was the sun, drawing everything that got near into his orbit, spinning faster and making her forget that if she stepped out, she’d spiral out of control.

  “Let me check with my property manager,” Marcy chirped. Suddenly, fingernails on a chalkboard didn’t seem so bad to Summer.

  Dawson thanked her before tugging Summer a little bit closer and dipping his head to press a kiss on her lips.

  Marcy exited quickly and it made Summer smirk. The move from Dawson was most likely meant to sell the marriage story but damned if it didn’t feel like the most natural thing for him to kiss her. Summer was in his orbit all right. Pulling away from him when this came to a close might be more difficult than she’d anticipated.

  Still, walking away would be the right thing to do, she reasoned. There was no other choice when she really thought about it. This case would end. She needed to get used to a new normal and a life without Autumn. Her sister had been preparing Summer for this in many ways over the past few years.

  Autumn had been difficult to get ahold of and she’d disappeared for long periods. She’d been putting more and more emotional distance between them. The notion of looking through her sister’s last possessions hit her so hard it nearly knocked her breath away. So many thoughts raced through Summer’s mind about what her sister had held on to. How had her sister lived in those final months? What had been important to her?

  Irritating chirp lady walked back into the lobby.

  “You owe three months’ rent at one thousand five hundred and fifty dollars a month. Plus, four hundred and fifty dollars in late fees and a thousand dollars for us to release your belongings. The total comes to six thousand, one hundred dollars.” She produced an invoice.

  Dawson pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Do you have a preference when it comes to plastic?”

  “We’ll take whatever you have available as long as the charge is approved.” Marcy beamed at Dawson but when her gaze shifted to Summer, her forehead creased with disapproval.

  He didn’t hesitate to hand over his card.

  “I’ll be right back as soon as I run this,” Marcy said before bebopping out of the room.

  “I’d like to pay you back,” Summer said in a whisper.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s the least I can do,” he said and there was regret in his voice.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I let your sister down. She came to me for sanctuary and I couldn’t protect her.” His serious tone said he meant every word. Here, Summer had been so focused on the fact she’d let her sister down she hadn’t once stopped to think Dawson might be in the same boat.

  “You didn’t know her. She walked out. You believed her. You did nothing but trust her and she betrayed that. Don’t get me wrong, I love Autumn with all my heart. That doesn’t mean I’m naive to the fact she made a lot of bad decisions in her life. But believe me when I say that you’re the last person on earth who should feel responsible for her.”

  “Your card is good,” Marcy interrupted the conversation.

  Logic said Summer should be able to forgive herself for not being there when Autumn needed her. The advice she’d given to Dawson seconds ago was true for him and somewhere down deep she could acknowledge it was true for her, too.

  Dawson took the card Marcy held between them. He tucked it back inside his wallet at the same time Marcy seemed to catch sight of the badge. She looked up at Dawson and studied his face.

  Summer couldn’t tell what the woman was thinking but the badge seemed to make her stand up a little straighter.

  “Where do you keep eviction belongings?” Dawson asked. It was the question on Summer’s mind.

  “You’ll have to wait thirty days and then you can buy them back from us.” Marcy sounded a little less certain of herself and a lot less bubbly than she had a few minutes ago.

  “We paid up my rent with late fees plus the thousand dollars to release those belongings. There’s no reason to keep my stuff.” Summer tensed up, ready for a fight.

  Dawson squeezed her hand.

  “How much to buy all of her belongings?” he asked.

  Marcy glanced around. “I’m not really supposed to—”

  “I don’t trust that you’ve taken care of my stuff.
I’d like to check on it to make sure everything’s there.” Summer was grasping at straws here but there might be something in her sister’s personal items that could give a hint of who she’d been seeing. Leaving empty-handed wasn’t an option.

  “We have the right to dispose of your items. We sent out a notice of our intentions—”

  “Which technically I never received.”

  “Your...” Marcy’s gaze bounced from Summer to Dawson and back “...boyfriend stopped by a couple of months ago and emptied out your storage. There isn’t much left but some makeup and toiletries. There are a few towels and some clothing. I don’t think my boss would be too mad if I showed you what was left.”

  The wheels were already turning in Summer’s mind as to how to tactfully ask what her “boyfriend” looked like.

  “That would be great if it’s not too much trouble.” Summer softened her tone, reminding herself she’d get more out of Marcy with honey than vinegar.

  “Stay right here and I’ll get my keys.” Marcy disappeared long enough for Summer to make eyes at Dawson.

  He seemed to read her apprehension even though he didn’t speak. How had he become so important in such a short time? She’d tell herself the desperate life-and-death situation she’d been in would cause her emotions to be all over the place. But that wouldn’t be fair to her feelings for Dawson.

  Marcy returned and motioned for them to follow her. She led them to a golf cart parked out front. Summer climbed inside and looked around. The person who’d killed her sister had walked around on these same paths. Cheryl’s killer had been here.

  No way to bring up Summer’s “boyfriend” came to her tactfully. So, Summer took the front seat and leaned over when Marcy claimed the driver’s side and popped the key in the ignition.

  “I don’t want my husband to hear this but can you tell me which one of my boyfriends stopped by. I dated around a lot after my husband and I separated. We got married straight out of high school and needed to find ourselves as people.” She was overexplaining, adding details to convince Marcy of the untruth.

  Marcy mouthed an Oh.

  The woman winked and smiled, looking a little too happy that “Sandy” seemed to be a little loose.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “He introduced himself as Matt...um, hmm. That’s weird. I’m not sure he ever told me his last name. If he did, I sure don’t remember it. He was gorgeous, though.” She glanced back at Dawson, who was making a show of checking his cell phone.

  Luckily, the backseat faced the opposite direction so they couldn’t see his face. It gave the illusion he couldn’t hear.

  Marcy backed out of the parking spot. The beep, beep, beep of the golf cart masked their conversation.

  “If you ask me, this one’s the best. Hands down.” Marcy blushed as she nodded back toward Dawson. “But then I’ve always been partial to tall, muscled men. Matt looked like he stepped out of one of those Abercrombie and Fitch ads if there was one for middle-aged men. You know?”

  “Yeah.” Summer didn’t have a clue. She’d gotten a first name, though. Matt. The name of the so-called attorney who’d handled the fake divorce had been Matt Charley Shank. The first two names were clues. What did Shank mean?

  For some reason, Summer doubted it was his actual last name. In fact, she was certain that Dawson would have checked every Matt or Matthew Shank in Texas. She tabled that thought, figuring Marcy was feeling chatty.

  “I never liked his hair, though,” Summer said.

  “Too curly?”

  “Exactly. And the color—”

  “Black never bothered me. It was a little long for a guy who wore a suit, though,” Marcy stated.

  Summer committed the details to memory. Matt, last name unknown, who looked like he’d walked off an Abercrombie and Fitch ad for middle-aged men, had curly black hair.

  “His eyes were nice, though,” Marcy continued in a hushed tone as she whipped around a corner and toward the back side of the complex. They passed a row of mailboxes before Marcy made another turn. “I don’t normally like blue eyes on a man but his were so light. They looked good on him. And he had just enough gray at the temples to be sexy.”

  She added the extra details, repeating his description to seal it into her brain. Matt, last name unknown, who looked like he’d walked off an Abercrombie and Fitch ad for middle-aged men, had curly black hair. He also had light blue eyes and wore a suit. And he had just enough gray at the temples to be sexy.

  A picture was emerging.

  “He turned out to be a creep.” Summer fished for any signs there’d been fighting between her sister and Matt. Marcy seemed like the nosy type who would know if a couple had problems.

  “Really?” Marcy seemed shocked. She took a minute to think about it and then said, “You know, that explains all the flowers.”

  “His way of apologizing,” Summer continued.

  “My mom always said never trust a man when he sends flowers out of the blue. It means he’s doing something wrong.” Marcy looked at Summer in a show of solidarity.

  Summer noticed there was no ring on Marcy’s left hand.

  “Dating is hard,” Summer continued.

  “It’s the worst.” Marcy smacked her palm on the steering wheel. “Right?”

  “There are so many jerks out there,” Summer agreed.

  “And they take all shapes and forms.” Marcy was really into the conversation now. Good, Summer had gotten good information out of the woman so far. And Summer was getting used to her nasal tone of voice. Fingernails on a chalkboard still had a better sound but Marcy was growing on her.

  Summer repeated her new mantra. Matt, last name unknown, who looked like he’d walked off an Abercrombie and Fitch ad for middle-aged men, had curly black hair that was a little too long. He also had light blue eyes and wore a suit. And he had just enough gray at the temples to be sexy.

  “You think you can trust a guy in a suit and then he turns out to be more of a jerk than you could ever have imagined.” Summer kept pouring it on. She was always so careful when she met a new person and was always guarded if someone tried to interact with her for the first time online. She’d been too busy working extra shifts and socking away money to have much free time. When she did have a day off, she usually spent it at the library researching how to start her own business or under the covers trying to catch up on her sleep.

  Marcy rocked her head as she pulled into a parking spot. Dawson, who’d been quiet up until now, was off the cart first. He clasped hands with Summer the second she exited.

  “Right this way.” Marcy took them to a storage building with five large doors. Keys clanked as she searched for the right one. “Hold on just a minute. Where’d you go?” She was talking to herself as she checked keys, one by one, and occasionally glanced over at Summer with an awkward smile.

  At least Marcy was focusing on Summer now instead of Dawson. He moved behind Summer and looped his arms around her. The feel of his masculine chest against her back sent sensual shivers racing through her.

  In the move, he also slipped his cell phone into her hands and swiped so that the screen came to life.

  “Are you from Texas, Marcy?”

  Summer could feel his chest vibrate when he spoke. More of those inappropriate shivers raced down her back.

  “San Angelo originally.” She beamed at him before refocusing on the keys. She slid one in and said, “Finally.”

  When her back was turned, Summer glanced at the screen of Dawson’s phone. He’d written down the description of Matt, which was basically the same as the mantra she’d repeated a couple of times since getting off the cart.

  He ran his thumb inside the palm of her hand, and it sent a trail of warmth.

  “And, we’re in,” Marcy said after wrestling with the door. “Be careful. We don’t usually let people back here, so it’s a m
ess. Maintenance is supposed to clean up but Jared has been calling in sick lately and it’s all we can do to keep residents happy.”

  “What happened to Sean?” Summer took the opportunity to ask another question that had been on both her and Dawson’s minds.

  “We had to let him go,” Marcy said with a frown. “He made a few of our female residents uncomfortable, so he wasn’t working out.” She paused. “I didn’t realize you liked him all that much.”

  “Can’t say that I knew him very well.” She shrugged. “Now that you mention it, he was a little creepy.”

  “That’s the same word a few other residents used to describe interactions with him,” she admitted. Those few minutes in the golf cart had won over Marcy’s trust.

  Steeling her nerves, Summer followed Marcy into the space. She flipped on a light, which was one of those basic builder installs hanging from the ceiling. The walls inside weren’t finished. There were only boards and posts.

  The storage shed was large and there was enough dust on the flooring to cover half the state. People’s belongings were stacked in piles, some were wrapped in what looked like oversize pieces of Saran wrap.

  Marcy navigated around a few of the piles until she located Autumn’s belongings.

  “Here’s your stuff,” she said to Summer.

  The stack consisted of a pile of clothing on top of shoes. There was makeup, like Marcy had mentioned before. There wasn’t a whole lot else. A couple of purses, some blankets and toiletries.

  “I’ll go get the truck,” Dawson said as an icy chill raced down Summer’s spine. All of her sister’s belongings could easily fit in the back.

  Summer didn’t have much, but she’d worked for her small apartment and filled it with things she loved. Her neighbor was looking after Summer’s plants. She had a wall of bookshelves with her favorite paperbacks. There were a few shells from the beach along with art she’d bought on the street. She’d made a few pieces herself, nothing fancy, just pottery she’d painted and fired. She had the most comfortable bed and her blanket was the softest thing she’d ever felt.