Out For Justice

“So what are you up to?” He eyed her from the tips of her new boots to the designer sunglasses she’d grabbed and thrust up high on her forehead.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right. When I see Miss Kelly McGovern sashaying down Main Street on this side of town in blue jeans, I know something’s up. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had an assignation at the Lone Star Lodge.”

“I don’t sashay. I don’t frequent that establishment. And I have better things to do than stand here and—”

“Better things to do? That doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me.”

“My business is no concern of yours.” She turned around to dismiss him.

He fell into step beside her. “Aren’t you even a little curious why I was following you?”

“Not particularly.” She yanked down the sunglasses.

“Okay.” He matched her, step for step, and didn’t say another word. He tipped his hat to a few of the townsfolk and waited. Wade hadn’t always been this patient. In his younger days he’d been known for his hot blood and his blazing temper. But he’d mellowed during his midtwenties. And he had the advantage here. She wanted to be rid of him, so she would either have to speak to him again or accept his company. He looked forward to either decision.

Her floral scent floating between them, the sunlight shimmering off her blond hair, she stopped on the sidewalk and peered over her sunglasses at him. “What do you want, Wade?”

Her respect? Her trust? Damned if he knew. “It’s not what I want but what Andrew wanted.”

“Don’t play word games with me about my brother.” She almost snapped at him, and he realized that the unhealed wound in her heart was responsible for the rawness in her voice. She’d adored her brother, tagging after Andrew into her midteens, shooting hoops with them in the park and getting underfoot. Andrew hadn’t minded, and Wade had enjoyed teasing the prickly princess. But they hadn’t run into one another that often. Andrew hadn’t brought his friends home much, and as Kelly’s popularity increased into her late teens, she’d found her own group of friends. Wade and Kelly might not ever have even spoken if not for Andrew—and now he was gone.

“I’m sorry. I miss him, too.” Wade ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s start over.”

“From ten minutes ago? Or eighteen years ago?”

She was referring to the first time they’d met. At ten years old, Wade had been the terror of the schoolyard and a class-A bully, copying his father, his only role model up to that point in his life. Wade had caught a stray ball from a group of kindergarteners playing kick ball. No one dared ask him for the ball—except five-year-old Kelly. She’d skipped over in her immaculate yellow ruffled dress, smiled at him like an angel and had plucked the ball right out of his hands, murmuring a sweet thank-you. He’d been so stunned at her audacity that he’d just stood there and let her get away with it.

Wade didn’t answer her rhetorical question. “I spoke to your brother the night he died.”

“And?” she prodded.

“He said that if anything happened to him that I should look after you.”

Her tone turned all businesslike. “What do you mean—if anything happened to him? Are you saying my brother expected trouble?”

“I’m not sure. He sounded more excited than concerned. I didn’t question him thoroughly.”

“Why not?” Her voice turned sharp enough to slice and dice, and he refrained from wincing, especially since he’d asked himself that same question a hundred times.

“The saloon was packed. I was shorthanded and I expected him to be over within the hour.”

She stood still for a moment, clearly thinking. “Have you mentioned your conversation to Sheriff Wilson?”

He shook his head. “I’ve spoken to Mitch, Deputy Warwick. He’s looking into it for me on the QT.”

“Why on the QT?”

He squared his shoulders and it only helped a little to know that she wasn’t prying into his personal life but trying to understand the situation with her brother. “Sheriff Wilson isn’t exactly a fan of the Lansing family. Deputies don’t like answering domestic squabbles.” And his folks had habitually fought every Friday and Saturday night. Deputies had stopped at his house as often as the local coffee shop.

He refrained from mentioning that he’d never liked Sheriff Wilson, but Mitch was an all-right deputy. The man had compassion, probably learned the hard way since growing up half Native American wasn’t easy in these parts.

To give her credit, Kelly didn’t fault Wade—at least out loud. “If you hear anything from Deputy Warwick, you’ll let me know?”

“Sure.” He wished he could see her eyes that she’d hidden behind those sunglasses.

“You needn’t worry about looking after me. I’m fine.”

Once again Kelly dismissed him, her booted feet taking the steps, two at a time, up Doc Swenson’s front porch. Wade almost left her to her business. But when Doc opened the front door and stepped onto the porch, Wade decided this meeting had nothing to do with a personal medical problem.

At eighty years of age and Mustang Valley’s only doctor, Swenson conducted his business inside where he’d converted two downstairs bedrooms into patient consultation rooms, or in the former dining room where he now performed autopsies for the sheriff’s department.

The town desperately needed a younger doctor but like most small towns, Mustang Valley didn’t have the population to support one of the medical facilities to induce a physician to move here. Doc had delivered most of the townsfolk around these parts, including Kelly and Andrew. When Wade’s folks couldn’t pay the bill, Doc had treated the thirteen-year-old Wade’s broken leg for free. These days, for more serious problems, folks usually made the one-hour drive to Dallas or Fort Worth.

Kelly shook Dr. Swenson’s hand. “Hi, Doc. Thanks for agreeing to talk to me. I know you’re busy.” When Wade stepped up on the porch beside her, she stiffened. “Excuse me, but I don’t remember inviting you to join us.”

Doc put his hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “It’s better if Wade’s here. Just two hours ago, we had a couple of kids throw a rock through the front window. Probably just a prank.” He jerked a thumb at a broken pane temporarily fixed with duct tape. “But I’d feel better if Wade walked you back.”

Wade nodded. “Yes, sir.” But he thought it odd that Doc believed she needed protection against a couple of juvenile delinquents and wondered if he had an ulterior motive.

Kelly looked up at the porch roof as if seeking heavenly patience, then back at Doc and ignored Wade. “Fine. Doc, I wanted to ask you about Andrew’s death.”

Doc gestured to a swing on his front porch. “Please, sit. I need to rest these old bones every chance I get—which isn’t often enough these days.”

Kelly settled on the swing, careful to leave Wade plenty of room so they wouldn’t be touching. Normally he might have deliberately crowded her—just to irritate her some more. But he couldn’t do that with her looking so distressed about Andrew, and behaved himself, sitting on the opposite end of the swing.

“Doc, the sheriff said my brother died of smoke inhalation.”

Doc sat in a rocker and lit his pipe. “I assure you, he didn’t suffer any pain.”

“You could tell that from the autopsy?” Wade asked.

“Yes.”

Kelly twisted her hands in her lap, noticed what she was doing and then grasped one hand firmly in the other. “I don’t see how Andrew could have fallen asleep at his desk. When I spoke to him at midnight, he was wide awake and excited and told me he was working on something interesting.”

“Did he say what?” Wade asked.

“No.” She focused on he doctor. “What else did the autopsy reveal?”

Doc puffed on his pipe and blew out a ring of smoke. “Nasty habit. Don’t ever start. Smoking causes cancer, you know.”

He took his pipe from his mouth and pursed his lips, eyeing her with a scowl. “I didn’t want to mention this at the funeral, and I’m not supposed to tell you this now, but Andrew didn’t die from the fire.”

“He didn’t?”

“He died from a bullet to his head.”

“Oh…my…God.” Kelly turned white. “Andrew was murdered?”

Chapter Two

Murdered?

Kelly’s suspicion had proven correct. Still, having her hunch confirmed proved a shock. Her nerves jerked as if a bomb had gone off and rattled her to the core. At first she feared she might faint, but then, with an inner fortitude, she inhaled a deep breath, squared her sagging shoulders and looked Doc straight in the eyes, listening to his explanation.

“A bullet indicates Andrew’s death was an accident, suicide or murder,” Doc told them bluntly.

Wade defended his friend. “It wasn’t an accident. Andrew didn’t keep a gun in the office and he certainly didn’t kill himself.”

“Why was this kept a secret?” Kelly demanded with unconcealed bitterness. She might have turned white but she hadn’t fainted and her brain was working perfectly as the question burst from her.

“Sheriff Wilson wanted me to keep the particulars quiet while he investigated.”

“Is this the usual procedure?”

“No, but it’s not that unusual, either. If the shooter thinks we’ve attributed Andrew’s death to the fire he started, to cover up the shooting, then the sheriff might have a better chance of catching the killer.”

“That may be so.” Kelly stood, trembling with shock and indignation, wishing she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her grief, that she’d followed up on her suspicions sooner. “But he had no right to keep this from our family. I’d say the sheriff has some explaining to do. Thanks for the information, Doc.”

“Anytime. And be careful. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make sure she stays that way.” Wade shook Doc Swenson’s hand and walked down the steps with her. She half expected Wade to try to talk her out of going to the sheriff, but he remained quiet.

“What are you thinking?” she asked him.

“I was making a mental list of all the people we should talk to.”

“We?”

“I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“I appreciate your wanting to look after me, but…”

He looped his arm through hers. “It’s not necessary?”

“I’m not sure about that.” She wasn’t going to turn down help from any quarter. Wade could be useful. He knew about a side of Andrew that her brother had sheltered her from. He also heard things at the saloon that might be handy. On the other hand, he was big and strong, and she didn’t trust herself around Wade. Years ago she’d had a schoolgirl crush on him, but hadn’t even considered there could be anything between them since her parents had clearly disapproved of Wade.

She trusted her parents’ judgment, so she really didn’t like the effect he had on her now. She liked the way he’d looped his arm through hers. She liked his intention to follow through on his promise to her brother. And she liked the concerned look in his eyes. Mix that with his flat-out determination to stick with her, and the man was downright irresistible. Yet never once in all the years she’d known him had he indicated even a smidgen of interest in her beyond as his friend’s kid sister.

Considering her interest in him, she should keep her distance. He was all wrong for her. Yet she owed it to her brother to seek justice and, to be fair, she’d have a better chance of success if she accepted Wade’s help. Although she’d lived in Mustang Valley all her life, he knew people that she didn’t.

As long as he proved helpful, she’d let him stick around. But if he interfered, tried to dissuade her or tried to take over, she’d dump him so fast his head would spin. Satisfied with her plan, she picked up her pace.

Just to keep him from getting too familiar, she removed her arm from his. His touch might be gentlemanly and brotherly, but she didn’t relish the way she reacted to him. “Andrew was murdered. If I start poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, the wrong person might notice.”

“I’m glad you’re going to be reasonable.”

She bristled. “I’m always reasonable.”

“I’m sure that’s true—from your perspective.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, which infuriated her. Sometimes she had the feeling they came from not just different parts of town but different planets. Maybe that was why he’d always fascinated her. He was so different from the college guys she’d dated.

Wade’s voice remained soft but was threaded with steel. “Just so we’re agreed. When you go talk to the sheriff, we go together.”

She nodded. “Who else is on your mental list?”

“The short list? The fire chief. Andrew’s associates at Lambert & Church. Debbie West. And Mitch, the deputy I told you about.”

“I vote we start with the sheriff. But I have to meet Cara for lunch.” Kelly checked her watch. “Why don’t I meet you at the sheriff’s station at two?”

“What? You don’t want to invite me to do lunch?”

She rolled her eyes skyward. “You wouldn’t be interested in our girl talk.”

“You’d be surprised what interests me.”

She waved him down the street. “Go away, Wade.” Knowing from experience that there was no faster way to discourage his company, she added, “Besides lunch, I have some shopping to do.”

OVER TUNA SALADS and Dr. Peppers in Dot’s sandwich shop, Kelly filled Cara in, recapping her conversation with Doc about her brother’s murder and Wade’s offer to help figure out what had happened. The high-backed booth gave them some privacy, but Kelly kept her voice down below the croon of a Garth Brooks song over the speaker system, well aware that in small towns like Mustang Valley gossip traveled faster than e-mail.

“So Wade and I are talking to Sheriff Wilson next,” Kelly told Cara, pleased with her progress and more determined than ever to keep asking questions.

Cara snapped a bread stick and swirled it in her dressing. “Back up. Slow down. What’s with the Wade-and-me stuff?”

“He offered to help. I accepted.”

“This is Cara you’re talking to, sweetie.” Cara crunched down on the bread stick and swallowed. “I happen to know you’ve had a crush on that guy since practically forever.”

“Had being the operative word.”

“Yeah, right.”

The two friends exchanged glances and both chuckled. Kelly saw no point in hiding anything from Cara. Her friend might disapprove, she might speak her mind, but they always backed each other up.

When they were teenagers, Kelly’s parents had been a big factor in the boys she’d chosen to date. But perhaps she should reconsider their influence. After all, she was no longer a kid but a college graduate.

“Okay. Wade’s still got these very cool gray eyes. I admit it, there’s a certain spark there. At least on my side. However, he’s still treating me like Andrew’s little sister.”

“And you don’t like it?”

“I like the way his chest and shoulders fill out his tacky T-shirt in all the right places.” She held up a hand to stall Cara’s protest. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t accept his help without becoming…involved. I don’t judge a man on just his looks.”

“Wade’s not like those college guys you go with. He’s dangerous. I don’t like the idea of you and him together. It’s like trusting a hungry wolf to guard a newborn calf.”

“Andrew trusted him,” Kelly countered.

“And look where he is now.”

Kelly didn’t bother to hide the pain that statement caused. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Sorry. My reporter instincts took over. Going in for the kill to win an argument is my specialty.” Cara reached over the table, her eyes filled with remorse, and patted Kelly’s hand. “But hurting my friend is unacceptable.”

Kelly shoved her half-eaten salad away. “Apology accepted. I guess I’m overly sensitive these days.”

“Of course you’re overly sensitive. Who wouldn’t be after losing their brother? You’re not yourself and that’s one of the reasons I’m worried about you hanging out with Wade. I’ll admit he can be useful. He knows almost everyone, and he and Andrew were tight.”

“But?”

“But you’re especially vulnerable right now. These last weeks have been rough. And you know Wade’s reputation is…”

“Just say it.”

“He’s a hard man to read, and at the same time he’s a gifted observer. I’ve seen him at work behind that bar. He can fix food and serve drinks and act totally absorbed in his work, but now and then it pops out how he’s exceptionally aware of his customers. It’s almost as if he senses trouble before it starts—like he has sensory antennae, alerting him to what is awry, out of place or simply off.”

“Those aren’t bad traits.”

“Yeah, but he keeps his own counsel and runs that saloon like it’s his own private kingdom. He’s always in charge. I’ve seen him toss out three-hundred-pound drunks without breaking a sweat or resorting to pulling the knife he keeps strapped to his ankle.”

“He’s a skilled marksman, too,” Kelly added, recalling the picture Andrew had taken of Wade holding a trophy. “He wins the skeet-shooting competition at the state fair every year. But so what if he doesn’t need a bouncer at that saloon of his? Andrew says—said—Wade could be trusted. I figured if there’s trouble, he’s a good person to have on my side.”

“Yeah, as long as he’s not gunning for you.” Cara drummed her fingers on the table. “Trouble has a way of finding that man. And the women, old and young, are still attracted to him like mares to a stallion.”

“Give me a little credit. We won’t do anything that I don’t want.”

Cara shot her a skeptical grin. “And what exactly do you want from him?”

Kelly paid for their meal with a credit card. “We can discuss it while you help me pick out a thoroughly intimidating new outfit.”

“You changing outfits for the sheriff or for Wade?” Cara asked.

“Stop grilling me,” Kelly half demanded, half complained, knowing her friend meant well but would try to boss her until she put a stop to it. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you do.” Cara checked her watch. “I don’t have much time. Some of us have to work for a living.”

Kelly rolled her eyes. “You love that job so much, if the Mustang Gazette didn’t pay you, you’d work there for free.”

“And I’ve got an interview lined up with Mayor Daniels over his election campaign.”

“You’re not working on one of your exposés where you’ve got to go undercover?” Kelly asked.

Cara shook her head. “Not this week, but stay tuned. Anyway, how about I catch up with you later?”

“Okay.”

“And Kelly…”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

“Would you please stop worrying? I’ll be fine.”

SURELY THAT COULDN’T BE Kelly waiting for him in front of the police station, wearing an outfit Wade classified between summer-break bragging and Vogue good-looking? He swallowed hard and reminded himself that his friend’s little sister was taboo territory. The fact that Andrew was no longer alive to remind him didn’t entitle Wade to forget she was off-limits.

Still, keeping his eyes above her neck was going to be more difficult than controlling a rowdy Saturday night crowd at the Hit ’Em Again Saloon. The contrast between her lace V-neck blouse and string of pearls that dipped between her breasts and her classic smile was almost enough to make Wade spin around and head elsewhere—except he’d promised Andrew to watch out for his little sister.

Wade sighed and kept walking with his teeth gritted in determination. He considered himself fairly knowledgeable about women and their clothes, but Kelly had knocked him off balance for the second time that day.

What in hell did she think she was doing? After working behind a bar he’d learned to recognize that the way a woman dressed said quite a bit about her personality and her mood. Kelly always wore classy, expensive, designer stuff that said hands off. Now her expensive fitted lace blouse stretched across a chest that had suddenly grown ample—no doubt due to some clever underwires designed to tease and entice.

Judging by the heat shooting directly south, he was “enticed” all right. Down boy. Kelly was still Kelly. First and foremost she was one high-maintenance lady. Her manicures alone likely cost more than his electric bill.

He had no doubt she was dressing this way for a reason. If she thought the sheriff might be distracted, she would likely be proven correct. No red-blooded male could possibly look at her without his mouth watering. She still wore her hair up, but some of it now tumbled down, curling around her face, one jaunty lock over the corner of her left eye. And those knotted pearls that tucked into the hollow of her breasts taunted his fingers to touch.

She waved at him and the movement caused her breasts to rise, drawing his gaze to her chest. “Nice.”

She eyed him with a glint of amusement. “You think I look good in blue?”

“I wasn’t talking about your shirt.”

“Oh.” For a moment her eyes widened as if startled, then she eased into a dangerous smile and looped her arm through his. “Good.”

He didn’t know what he thought when she didn’t act the least insulted by his direct reference to her assets. On the one hand, she seemed more touchable by showing a hint of skin, but contradictorily, he wanted her more than he ever had before. Sure, he’d noticed that Kelly was cute, but he’d never really considered getting together with her. First, there had been Andrew who wouldn’t have been pleased, and second, there had always been this unbreachable wall between them. However, the wall had cracks, ones he couldn’t seem to stop himself from peeping through.

He frowned at her. “You going to tell me exactly what you’re up to before we go inside?”

“Sheriff Wilson already thinks I’m a piece of fluff.” She didn’t sound resentful, just stated the obvious. “So I went out of my way to reinforce his attitude by buying this shirt.”

“Why?”

“Suppose he’s hiding more than the fact that my brother was murdered?”

“Like what?”

Wade didn’t believe that just because the sheriff wore a badge that he was an upright citizen. But he had no quarrels with the man, either. Wilson’s deputies left the saloon alone and Wade took care not to give them reasons to hassle him or his patrons. And he’d like to keep it that way.

“I don’t know,” she said. Together they entered the Sheriff’s Department. “That’s why we’re here. To ask questions.”

“Okay.” He wondered if she had a plan or intended to play this by ear. He also wondered if those tight jeans made her hips appear to sway more than usual or if she’d deliberately changed her walk to a sexy swagger.

Kelly headed straight to the front desk, seemingly unaware of the attention several deputies gave her. “We’re here to see Sheriff Wilson.”

“You have an appointment?” asked a male receptionist who wore a headset and didn’t look up from his computer.

“No, sir. But it’s real important that I talk to him.”

“I’m sure it is.” The male officer looked up, then looked again before dismissing her. “He’s busy, but if you care to wait…”

Kelly leaned forward and whispered loudly, “You don’t understand, sir. This is personal. My brother died and I have so many unanswered questions. Sheriff Wilson would much prefer hearing what I have to say in private. However, if you insist, I could go public…”

Wade clamped his teeth together to prevent himself from grinning. Kelly had insinuated that she had crucial information about Andrew and if the desk officer knew what was good for him, he’d give them immediate access to his boss.

The officer pushed a few buttons on a speakerphone, then mumbled into his microphone before jerking his thumb down the hall. “The sheriff will see you now. Third door on your left.”

Sheriff Wilson sat in a loose gray uniform behind his desk, a burning cigar in his hand despite the No Smoking sign on the building’s front doors. In his fifties, tall and rangy, he had tough, leathery skin that bespoke a hard life-style.