Men to Trust

“We just got the results back on your father’s autopsy. He was poisoned, Violet. It wasn’t a natural death. It was murder.”

Murder. Murder. She felt the blood draining out of her face. Janet Collins had killed her father.

“That woman,” she bit off. “That damned, greedy woman killed my father!”

He moved around the desk quickly and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tight. “It’s all right,” he murmured softly at her ear, contracting his arms when she began to shiver. “We’ll make her pay for it. I swear we will.”

She’d felt shock and then anger. Now she felt grief well up in her like water behind a dam. She’d loved her father, despite his faults. How in the world was her mother going to react to the news?

“It will kill Mama,” she choked, sliding her arms around Blake’s waist.

“No, it won’t,” he assured her. “She’s stronger than she looks. But I think you and I should both break the news to her.”

“Yes. Thank you,” she added belatedly.

He drew in a long breath. Odd, how right she felt in his arms. He’d ached for her for the past few days. This was like coming home.

She loved the comfort of his embrace. Except for her mother, she’d had little real affection in her life. It was wonderful to melt into his muscular body and let him absorb all her worries, all her fears. He made her feel secure, protected.

His hand smoothed over her hair, enjoying its softness.

Footsteps interrupted them. Curt came into the room, stopped dead, and started to go back out again, faintly embarrassed.

Blake saw him and released Violet. “She’s had some bad news,” he told the other man. “It will be all over town soon enough, so you might as well know now. Her father was poisoned.”

“By my stepmother?” Curt asked miserably.

Blake nodded. “Very probably.”

Curt grimaced. “Violet, I’m so sorry.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. They felt swollen and hot. “It’s not your fault, Curt,” she said sadly. “You and Libby have suffered because of her, too. We’re all victims.”

“And we can’t find her,” Curt muttered angrily.

“We will,” Blake said firmly. “I swear we will.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Curt asked.

Violet shook her head. “But thanks anyway. We’re going to tell Mama. I hope it isn’t going to be too much for her.”

Blake smiled faintly as Violet went to gather up her things. “I think you’ll find that your mother is going to want vengeance more than sympathy when she knows the truth.”

Violet smiled. “I hope so,” she replied. “I really hope that’s how she’s going to feel.”

Blake turned to Curt. “I’m going to follow Violet home. If Wright calls, can you tell him what’s going on?”

“He left his foreman in charge,” Curt replied. “I’ll make sure he knows. There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Violet, if you need anything, all you have to do is tell us. I know Libby would tell you the same thing.”

“Thanks, Curt,” she replied, managing a smile as she joined Blake. “I’m ready when you are,” she told him.

“Let’s go.” Blake stood aside to let her go out the door first.

Mrs. Hardy looked up expectantly, and with faint surprise, when she saw Blake come in the door with her daughter. Both of them wore somber expressions.

She was propped up on the sofa with pillows. She gave them a wise look. “You have the results of the autopsy,” she guessed. “That floozie poisoned my husband, didn’t she?” she added, eyes flashing. “I want her drawn and quartered!”

Blake smiled at Violet. “Didn’t I tell you?” he mused.

Violet nodded. “Yes, you did.” She put down her things and went to sit beside her mother on the sofa and pull her close. “We’re going to find her and send her away for years and years,” she promised her mother. “It’s just a matter of time and evidence.”

“Evidence being the key word,” Blake agreed. “Fortunately, the criminalists who processed the scene did a thorough job. They couldn’t rule out homicide, so they did a good job of collecting trace evidence. There’s more than enough for a DNA profile. If Janet was in that room, we’ll be able to prove it. There’s also an eyewitness who saw her come out of the room shortly before your husband was discovered,” he added.

“Yes, but we don’t know where she is,” Violet murmured.

“Oh, that’s just a minor detail,” Blake said carelessly. “I have a private detective tracking her. It’s just a matter of time.”

“You didn’t say anything about that,” Violet remarked.

“Finding Janet is essential to Libby and Curt. They’re fighting to keep their ranch, and it’s not going well,” he said grimly. “Janet has done everything in her power to take it away from them. She’s absconded with all the money and tied up their finances so that they can hardly pay bills. They need her found, and quickly. So do both of you,” he added. “The longer this drags on, the worse it’s going to get.”

“How can a human being be so cold?” Mrs. Hardy wondered out loud, her delicate features drawn as she spoke. “Money isn’t that important.”

“To some people it is,” Blake replied. “I’ve seen men go to prison for life because they stole less than twenty dollars. A thief doesn’t know how much money his victim is carrying, as a rule. Sometimes the victim resists, and dies, and the thief ends up with pocket change and a life sentence. Greed is its own punishment.”

“I hope Janet Collins gets hers,” Violet said quietly, hugging her mother. She glanced at Blake. “I suppose it will be in all the papers?”

“Undoubtedly,” he agreed. He moved into the living room and dropped down into a comfortable armchair. “Personal tragedies have become popular entertainment. We’ve reached an all-time low in journalistic ethics.”

“Where do you think Janet Collins went?” Mrs. Hardy asked abruptly.

Blake crossed his long legs and leaned back in the chair. “At a guess, somewhere close by. She won’t want to let go of the ranch. Libby and Curt have had some threats already, probably at her instigation.”

“I’m sorry they’re having such trouble,” Violet said. “Libby’s the best friend I have.”

“I won’t give up until Janet is found,” Blake assured her. “I’ve got one of the best private investigators in Texas on the job.”

Mrs. Hardy was dabbing at her eyes. Anger had given way to grief. “I wondered about the coroner’s report, saying that he had a heart attack,” she murmured aloud. “He’d had all sorts of tests, and there was no trace of heart trouble.”

“From what the medical examiner told me, the poison paralyzes the heart. Essentially, it stops it dead. Since no one suspected foul play, they didn’t bother with an autopsy. But I credit those investigators in San Antonio with doing a great job of evidence gathering. When we finally catch Janet, we’ll have enough to hang her.”

Violet hugged her mother. “It will be all right,” she said, although she didn’t really feel it.

“The newspapers will have a field day, won’t they?” Mrs. Hardy asked suddenly, her face contorted.

“We’ll get through it,” Violet assured her. “We’re tough, aren’t we?”

Mrs. Hardy hesitated, then she smiled. “Yes, dear. We’re tough.”

“We’ll find a way around the publicity,” Blake told them. “First things first. We have to find Janet.”

“Thank you for coming with Violet to give me the news, Blake,” Mrs. Hardy told him gently. “It made it easier.”

“I thought it might,” he said gently. “I’m sorry it turned out this way,” he added.

“So are we,” Violet replied. “But we don’t get to choose our obstacles, do we?”

“How true,” Mrs. Hardy murmured. She looked toward Blake. “Would you like to come to dinner?”

Violet flushed. She knew her mother was trying to play matchmaker, but she wished she hadn’t. She was uneasy around Blake. She didn’t know what he expected of her. She didn’t know how she should behave.

Blake saw her indecision and averted his gaze to Mrs. Hardy. “Thanks,” he said, “but I’ve got a lot of work to get through tonight for a client.” The client was Libby Collins, but he wasn’t going to discuss that with the women.

“Another time,” Mrs. Hardy suggested.

“Another time,” he agreed pleasantly. “I’d better get on the road. If you need me, call,” he told Violet firmly.

“Of course, we will,” she said without looking directly at him, and with a forced smile.

“My interim secretary is getting married,” he remarked. “You might consider coming back to work. Libby and Mabel miss you.”

Violet was surprised, because he hadn’t been in touch with her since their dinner. She didn’t even know that he’d hired an interim secretary. He sounded as if he wanted Violet to come back. But he didn’t look desperate.

On the other hand, she missed seeing him every day. It was a wrench to work for Duke Wright. It guaranteed that she wouldn’t see Blake on a regular basis at all. Today had been a rare event.

“Think about it, at least,” Blake added quietly.

“Yes,” she replied. “I certainly will.”

He studied her for a few seconds too long, his eyes narrow and intent. She might mistake his invitation for something romantic, but that wasn’t the case at all. He felt guilty for what he’d let happen at his house. Violet could be pregnant. He didn’t dare keep his distance until he knew for sure. The woman hadn’t a clue about relationships, and she’d be in a hell of a fix if she really had become pregnant.

He had to keep her close so that he’d know, whatever her condition turned out to be. If there was going to be a child…

He stopped the thought dead. He wouldn’t think about that consequence. He had to look on the bright side. He wasn’t ready for marriage and a family. He might never be. Certainly, Violet was hardly the sort of woman he envisioned marrying. She was sweet and kind, but she wasn’t assertive. There were divisions between them that she didn’t understand. He couldn’t hurt her by pointing them out.

He had to bide his time until he knew for sure if there was going to be a child. That wasn’t her fault, either. He’d seduced her, out of loneliness and aching hunger. He still felt the need for her. It was why he’d avoided her for the past couple of days. He’d hoped to get it under control.

But it wasn’t. He looked at her and he wanted her. His body was already as taut as drawn rope, just from looking at her. He knew instinctively that if he touched her, he wasn’t going to be able to pull away. The pleasure she’d given him was exquisite. He wanted it again. And he didn’t dare have it.

“Violet, why don’t you walk Blake out?” Mrs. Hardy suggested when there was a brief silence.

“I can find my way out,” Blake said without making a big thing of Violet’s hesitation. He even smiled. “Think about the job,” he suggested. “We make a good team…you and me and Libby and Mabel,” he added just when she thought he was talking about the two of them.

She nodded. “I will think about it,” she promised.

“I’ll be in touch,” he replied. He didn’t say goodbye. He simply left.

“See, dear, he misses you!” Mrs. Hardy exclaimed when they heard his car start up outside. “He wants you back! You’ll do it, won’t you?”

“I have to change clothes and get supper started,” she interrupted to halt her mother’s speculation. “What would you like? How about pancakes?”

“Pancakes? For supper?” the older woman exclaimed.

“Why not? We love pancakes!”

Mrs. Hardy smiled. “Then pancakes it is. And coffee.”

Coffee reminded Violet of Blake and made her sad. She’d lost her job over coffee. But she didn’t let it show. “Decaf for you,” she teased, and went to change her clothes.

Chapter Seven

Blake spent the weekend working, trying to keep his mind off Violet. Monday morning, his private investigator called with some good news for Libby and Curt Collins. Their father’s priceless coin collection had been located at a dealer’s shop in San Antonio. There were bankbooks. There was also a copy of a new will, about which Blake had some suspicions. Blake phoned the dealer and arranged to drive up the following morning early and collect the coins and the documents. He told the dealer that he’d have Libby phone him as soon as she came to work—she could vouch for the fact that Blake was her attorney and authorized to handle her inheritance.

He didn’t know if Janet Collins was aware of the coin collection’s whereabouts and he considered that he might need backup.

He phoned the chief of police’s office and talked to Cash Grier, who agreed to drive up with him. Grier would intimidate most people with evil intentions, Blake thought humorously, even without a firearm.

He told Libby about the trip and also asked her to go by Violet’s house that afternoon with a pizza and cheer the women up. He also suggested that it wouldn’t hurt for Libby to mention how badly they missed her in the office, and how short-handed they were since the interim secretary, Jessie, had given notice and quit. Libby laughingly agreed.

Libby was surprised at Violet’s new look and her nervousness when she stopped by Violet’s house after work. She’d known Violet for a long time. She’d never known her to be anything except calm and collected.

“Mr. Kemp asked me to tell you how much we’re missing you,” Libby said, tongue-in-cheek.

Violet laughed softly. “Are you really, or are you just short-handed because Jessie quit without finishing out her notice?”

Libby’s eyes widened. “How in the world did you know that?”

Violet chuckled. “Mrs. Landers who works at the newspaper office,” she replied. “She’s the best gossip we have, and she thought I’d like to know that poor Mr. Blake was short a secretary. She saw the baby shower announcement that Jessie brought in and Jessie mentioned that she was leaving the job early because Mr. Kemp was hopeful that his old secretary might come back if she knew how hard-pressed he was for help.”

“Well!” Libby exclaimed on a laugh, showing her the box of hot pizza. “It’s all true, of course. I brought you and Mrs. Hardy a pizza.”

“You can have some, too, Libby, since you were nice enough to bring it,” Violet said, hugging the other woman. “It was sweet of you. Mama and I have had a bad day.”

“Mr. Kemp told me about it,” Libby replied. “I’m so sorry.”

Violet shrugged. “We all have hard times. We’ll get through ours. It’s just that it’s brought back so many terrible memories.”

“All my stepmother’s fault,” Libby said coldly. “Curt and I would love to get our hands on her!”

“Take a number and get in line,” Violet mused with morbid humor.

“I see your point.”

“Come on into the kitchen, and I’ll find some plates. Mama, Libby’s here, and she brought a pizza,” she called to her mother in the living room.

“Hello, Libby,” Mrs. Hardy called back. “That was sweet of you!”

“That’s just what I said, Mama,” Violet teased.

She led Libby into the kitchen.

“One way or another, my stepmother has made some terrible problems for all of us,” Libby said somberly. “But she messed up.”

“How?”

“My dad must have suspected something, because he made a new will and left it with a rare coin dealer in San Antonio,” Libby replied. “The coin collection he had is there, too. Mr. Kemp says Curt and I will be able to pay off our mortgage and get our livestock back.”

“Libby, that’s wonderful!” Violet exclaimed.

“Yes. Wonderful. But Julie Merrill has been making my life hell lately. She’s got her claws into Jordan and she won’t let go. He thinks I’m just jealous and trying to break them up. But it’s more than that,” she said grimly. “She’s dangerous. She’s been spreading all sorts of rumors about Calhoun Ballenger. He got Mr. Kemp to file suit against her for slander.”

“Good for Calhoun!”

Libby helped put pizza on plates. “I thought Jordan cared about me,” she said miserably. “But the minute Julie turned on the charm, he dropped me flat. He even let her insult me without saying a single word in my defense.”

“I’m really sorry,” Violet told her. “I thought Jordan was smart enough to see through her.”

“She’s pretty and smart and rich,” Libby murmured.

“And what are you, hideous?” Violet chided. “Your people were founding families of Jacobsville, and you’re a paralegal. You’re pretty, too. You’re worth two of Julie Merrill.”

Libby looked less stressed. She smiled. “Thanks, Violet. I really have missed you,” she added. “I don’t have anybody else that I can talk to, except my brother, and I couldn’t tell him how I really feel about Jordan.”

“Julie will fall into that deep hole she’s digging one day,” Violet told the other woman. “With any luck, Janet will fall into one just as deep!” She hesitated, remembering what Libby had said. “Mr. Kemp isn’t going to go up there alone to get those things, is he? I mean, Janet might have an accomplice…”

“Cash Grier is going with him,” Libby interrupted.

Violet laughed. “I’ll stop worrying right now. Nobody is going to mess with our chief of police.”

“That’s gospel,” Libby agreed. “Although you might remember that Mr. Kemp was an officer in the reserves until just recently. He’s no shrinking daisy.”

“I know,” Violet replied, smiling. “Remember those two men he threw out of our office?”

“I’m trying to forget!”

They both laughed.

The pizza was delicious. Violet walked out with Libby when she was ready to leave.

“Are you going to come back?” Libby asked the other woman seriously.

“Yes,” Violet said. “I dread having to tell Mr. Wright, though,” she added. “He was kind to me.”

“Duke’s nice. He won’t mind. He may not like Mr. Kemp, but he likes you,” she added with a smile. “I’ll bet he won’t even ask you to work a two week notice.”

“That would be nice.” She wrapped her arms around herself. The night was cool. “Has Mr. Kemp really missed me?”

Libby smiled. “He really has. He’s set new records for hostility and impatience. I think Jessie quit because she reached the end of her rope. She couldn’t please the boss no matter what she did. It seemed to Mabel and me that Mr. Kemp was trying to make her leave.”

Violet smiled delightedly. “I’ve missed him, too,” she confessed.

Libby hugged her. “We all know how you feel about him. I think you’ve got a good chance with him, Violet,” she said gently. “I wouldn’t encourage you to come back if I didn’t. I know too much about unrequited love.”

“You and Jordan are going to work out one day, too,” Violet assured her friend. “I’m sure of it.”

“Chance would be a fine thing,” Libby sighed. “Well, I’d better get home. Curt’s having a night out with the boys so I don’t have to worry about his supper, thank goodness.”

“Your brother’s a nice man.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Libby grinned. “I wouldn’t have minded you for a sister-in-law, you know. But you can’t get past love. I know. I’ve tried.”

“It will work out, Libby,” Violet told her.

“Somehow,” Libby agreed.

“Thanks for the pizza and the company.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“I’ll call Mr. Wright tonight,” Violet added, full of excitement.

“We’ll look forward to having you back whenever you can come,” Libby called on her way to the car.

Violet did phone Duke Wright, and he did waive her two weeks’ notice. He was sorry to lose her, he added, but a blind man could see how she felt about Kemp. Not that Kemp deserved her, he added wryly. Violet thanked him and hung up. She was going to be sitting at her desk when Mr. Kemp came in the next morning. She could hardly wait to see the look on his face!

Kemp and Cash Grier were on their way back from San Antonio after a stop at the coin dealer’s shop, a local attorney’s office, and a quick lunch. Kemp had salvaged more than enough of the late Riddle Collins’s assets to save Libby and Curt Collins from bankruptcy. They’d be able to pay off their outstanding loan and have plenty left over to put in the bank. The coin collection their father had left them was worth a fortune by itself. But in addition to it, Kemp had found two savings accounts and a new will that their late father had placed with the coin dealer in San Antonio. Apparently, he hadn’t trusted his wife, Janet, one bit, and had planned for her legal shenanigans after his death. He’d assured that his children wouldn’t be left penniless.

“Isn’t greed amazing?” Kemp murmured aloud, having told Grier the bare bones of the shameful way Janet had treated her stepchildren.

“It is,” Grier said. “I’ve never understood it. I like having enough to provide a roof over my head and the occasional night at the theater, but there are plenty of things I wouldn’t consider doing even to make myself rich.”

“Same here.” Kemp glanced at the older man curiously.

“Something bothering you?” Grier asked.

“I’m surprised at the way you’ve fit in here,” he replied with a faint smile. “You do know the whole town’s talking about your defense of your two patrol officers—the ones the mayor is trying to fire.”

“I like controversy if it’s in a good cause,” Grier said. He grinned. “I’m not letting them fire good officers for doing their jobs.”

“You’ve got some drug traffickers on the run as well,” Kemp mused. “You’re shaking up our little community. I like the changes. So do a lot of other people.”

“I’m glad, but I didn’t take the job to win a popularity contest.”

“Why did you?” Kemp asked evenly.

Grier sighed. “I’m tired of living on the run,” he confessed, gazing out the window while Kemp drove. “I’m feeling my age. I think I might put down roots here.”

“With Tippy?” Kemp fished.

Grier didn’t fly at him, as he’d expected. The older man frowned slightly. “She’s not what she seems,” he replied quietly. “I’ve misjudged her badly. I don’t know that she’d be willing to take me on, once she’s back on her feet and able to work again. In any case, I can’t let her far out of my sight right now. Not until that third kidnapper is in custody,” he added coldly. “If he turns up in Jacobsville and makes a try for her, he’d better carry life insurance.”

“It would take a stupid criminal to do that.”

“I’ve locked up a lot of guys who aren’t rocket scientists,” Grier said drolly, with a speaking glance at Kemp.

Kemp chuckled. “I’ve defended a fair number who weren’t, too,” he had to agree. “Which reminds me, if you want me to defend your patrol officers at the hearing, I’ll do it pro bono.”

“Thanks,” Grier told him. “But I’ve got a big surprise for the city council when they meet for that hearing.”

“I forgot. You’re related to the Hart boys, aren’t you?”

Grier grinned. “They’re my cousins.”

“And Simon Hart is our state attorney general,” he added, laughing. “Then I don’t need to offer my services. I won’t try to guess who you’re bringing with you.”

“You won’t need to guess,” Grier said. He stretched lazily. “I need a few days off. Once the election is over and the disciplinary hearing is decided, I’m going to take some time off. Tippy’s little brother is coming down here soon. He likes to fish. Maybe he and I can stake out a riverbank for a few hours and take some fresh fish home to Tippy for dinner.”

“Can she cook?” Kemp asked, surprised.

“Indeed she can,” he replied. “You’d be amazed at how domestic she is.” His eyes were soft. “She looks right at home in a kitchen. I could get used to seeing her across a table for the rest of my life.”

Kemp felt uneasy. Grier, an older and lonelier man than himself, was apparently thinking solemnly about a stable and shared future with a woman. Kemp thought of marriage and it made him uncomfortable.

“I’m not in the market for a wife,” Kemp said aloud. “I like my own space, my own company.”

Grier gave him a grin. “I used to be that way, too. There’s always the one woman who can change your mind.”

Kemp shrugged. “Not for me. I’ve been that route once. I never want to go over the same ground again.”