California Girl (6 page)

Rio Laraquette, treasure hunter extraordinaire. She had to admit, it did have a certain kind of charm about it, although she’d never let Turner know. She had to let him keep thinking she was the dumb redhead he’d pegged her for. “I suppose there’s a point hidden in your story somewhere?”

Turner nodded. “There’s a point.”

“Mind sharing?”

He had to wonder how she’d ever managed to pull off a single con. But it was much too late to start having doubts about her now. Rio was irreplaceable. And since that was the case, it was time to spell it out clearly and see how far this little firecracker was willing to go for a buck. “My point,” he said, “is that Audrey told me her brother has half a map. It’s supposed to lead to the sisters’ treasure.”

“Okay,” she said. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want you to go up to Carson City and tell those Indians that you’re Audrey Tajan’s daughter.” He cleared his throat. “And then...I want you to talk them into going out and finding that treasure.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She laughed at the ridiculousness of his scheme. Hadn’t he noticed her skin was whiter than white? And she was a redhead. Who was going to believe she had Native American blood running through her veins? “What about Audrey?” she reminded him. “She can put that notion to rest.”

Turner shook his head. “Audrey’s not going to tell them anything.”

“And you know this…because?” Rio asked.

“She’s dead,” he said in a cavalier tone.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to get them to go out and look for a treasure.” She brought her arms around in front of her and clamped her hands together in her lap. “With half a map?”

Turner opened his desk drawer and pulled out a faded and worn document. “This is the other half of the map.” He pushed it across the desk.

Rio studied it. Could this thing be real? She looked back at Turner. “So what do you need me for?” She laid the map back down on the desk. “Why don’t you go to them and say…
Hey, I’ve got the other half of the map. Let’s go find the treasure
?”

Turner’s expression turned dark. “Because I don’t want to share it.”

It was like someone had turned on the lights and Rio realized it was Christmas morning. “You’re going steal it!” Now this was more like it.

“With your help.”

“And I’m helping how?” she said, playing up her dumb persona.

“Okay, listen carefully this time.” His exasperation was beginning to shine through. “You’re going up to Carson City and find Audrey’s brother, William Tajan. You’re going to tell him you’re Audrey’s daughter. Then, you’re going to get those Indians to go out and dig up that treasure.”

“Oh, sure...” She laughed. “I’m going to waltz right on up there with my redheaded, white ass…and they’re going to believe that my mother was an Indian.”

“They do have white blood in them, you know.”

“Oh, yeah.” Rio snorted. She hadn’t fallen of the turnip truck yesterday. “And that was what...like about a gazillion years ago?”

Turner returned to his desk drawer. “Oh, they’re going to believe it all right.” He pulled out an old photograph and handed it across the desk.

She took the picture, fully intending to glance at it and hand it back. But that was before she actually got a look at it. Something about the old image intrigued her. It was a snapshot of three women, and even though it was black and white, she could tell two of them had light colored hair and the other’s was dark.

“That’s a photograph of Maggie Fuller and her sisters Mary and Molly. It was taken up in Virginia City in 1863.” He paused for effect. “That picture belonged to Audrey.” Turner waited for Rio to look at him, but she never did. “I take it you do see the resemblance between yourself and at least two of the women in the shot?” He pointed, singling out the girl in the middle. “Especially her. She’s Maggie Fuller.”

Rio couldn’t argue that one. Not realistically. She had to admit she and this woman Maggie Fuller looked an awful lot alike. The whole thing was a bit eerie. She felt it as she studied the photograph, the weird sensations riveting through her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I’ll give you Audrey’s personal things. Including that photo and my half of the map,” he said. “After you locate the position of the treasure, call me and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Where’d you get the other half of the map?” she asked, her nosiness kicking in.

Turner hesitated about a millisecond before saying, “My grandmother gave it to me.”

“Your grandmother...?” Rio had a hard time believing it. Turner was too fond of telling stories and he’d let this one go way too easily.

“One of Maggie’s sisters was my great-great grandmother.”

“Really?” It was an intriguing idea, but Rio was skeptical. “Which one?” She tossed the photograph back across the desk.

He scooped up the picture and studied it with a quick scan before pointing to the other light-haired sister. “That one. She was my grandmother’s grandmother.”

“Which one was she? Mary or Molly?” Now it had become a game for Rio. She wanted to see how far he could take it since she figured he was making it up as he went along. Oh, she could guess there was some truth to the story, at least about the three sisters. But Rio doubted that any of them was Turner’s great-great grandmother.

Turner mumbled and groaned before he identified her as Molly. He was getting antsy. And the last thing she wanted to do was rock the boat.

“So let’s get to the part about all the money I’m supposed to get,” she said, tremendously poised as she changed the subject.

He tapped a pencil on the desk. “I’m going to pay you…one hundred thousand dollars.”

Rio threw her head back and laughed. “You’re kidding.” She settled her eyes on him again. “Right?”

She’d discarded his offer quicker than a blink of the eye. Not only that, she’d mocked him. He wasn’t sure if that pissed him off more than it impressed him.

Finally, she’d gone and done something that induced him to believe that maybe, maybe, he’d underestimated her. He hoped so. He’d invested too much time, effort, and money to give up now.

Turner had been carrying this dream around for twenty years. Damn near ever since he’d run across Audrey Tajan. Now theirs had been a different kind of relationship. He’d actually liked her. Well, about as much as he could ever like any woman. Turner had never been interested in marriage or family. Apparently neither was Audrey. He’d known exactly where he stood with her. And she’d made it quite clear what was expected of him.

As long as he kept her entertained and bought her a pretty trinket every now and then, she was happy. Audrey didn’t get jealous over other women. In fact she’d told him, more than once, she liked it that he wasn’t under foot all the time.

Then a couple of years ago Audrey’s health started to fail. When the doctors said she had ovarian cancer, Turner was a true and dedicated friend who willingly paid her medical bills.

But then again, maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that she’d told him her brother had half a map that led to a treasure. She’d gotten drunk one night, many years before her sickness, and told Turner about her family’s history.

Her revelation started with the story of Maggie and Tajan and ended with her own expulsion from the family. She left home at the age of sixteen and she hadn’t been back since.

And she had these family heirlooms; items that had belonged to her ancestors, Maggie and Tajan. Turner wanted those pieces when she died. And he’d played the devoted friend and benefactor, all because her time was limited.

And now, if luck was on his side—and Turner believed it was—Rio was going to help him find the treasure at the end of the map.

“You expect me to go up there and con those people?” Rio didn’t sound committed. “So you can steal the treasure right out from under them…and I’m only supposed to get a hundred grand out of it?”

“Okay.” Turner grinned, secretly impressed. “What’s it going to take?”

“Well…” The word lingered on the air. “I need at least half a mill,” she said. “Hundred grand up front. And I’ll be needing some expense money, too.”

“All right.” Turner’s nod was self-effacing. “One hundred thousand now. The rest when I recover the treasure.” He studied her closely. “And five thousand for expenses.”

“Up front?” she asked.

“Up front.”

“Agreed.” She stood and offered her hand across the desk.

They shook on the deal. “If you pull this off…I won’t ever forget it.”

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee,” she said, “when this is over...you will never forget me.”

**I hope you enjoyed this preview of
Broken Wings
. If you’d like to read the book in its entirety, it’s available on Kindle, Nook, and a variety of other online retailers. Please turn the page for an excerpt of Cara Marsi’s
A Catered Romance
.**

A CATERED ROMANCE

by

Cara Marsi

CHAPTER ONE

“Y
ou offered our company to Sackett Industries? Gail, how could you? I’d rather go under than sell to them.” Mary Beth Kendrick smoothed an unsteady hand over her hair and scowled at her friend and business partner.

Gail O’Connell folded her arms across her chest and glared back. “Get your redhead’s temper under control. We’ll go under unless we do something fast. As equal partner, I can’t sell without you, but I refuse to lie down and die. I thought you were more of a fighter too.”

Gail’s retort brought quick tears to Mary Beth’s eyes. Trying to hide her face, she turned toward the window. Pedestrians hurried by in the spring sunshine on the street outside their catering shop. How could they look so happy when her world was crumbling like a piece of stale cake?

A few hours ago their biggest client had cancelled. Now this. Tom Sackett. She’d heard he was back in town. Wasn’t it enough that he’d hurt and humiliated her so badly years before?

“Mary Beth?”

She let out a deep sigh and turned at Gail’s touch on her arm. Gail didn’t know what Tom had once meant to her. She couldn’t take her anger and frustration out on her friend. “I’m sorry. It’s been a real bad day.”

Mary Beth patted Gail’s arm, then walked to one of the large chintz chairs and sank into the thick cushions. She gripped the chair arms, finding no comfort in the satin smoothness of the fabric. Her gaze scanned the small reception area with its flowered drapes and chairs, pale greens and peaches. An English country garden, the decorator had said. More like an abandoned garden now. A new competitor had blown into town six months ago and plucked all the flowers, leaving her and Gail with the weeds…and lots of bills. Even the usually soothing lavender potpourri seemed to have lost its potency.

The kitchen in the back was state of the art—all gleaming white and stainless steel. And rarely used now. They’d had such hopes when they’d moved into these new, upscale quarters and expanded their business. Now, a year later, they had few customers and almost no money.

Gail plopped into a chair facing her. “The financial officer from Sackett approached me while you were at your mother’s yesterday. He said they wanted to invest in some small businesses and ours had potential.” Her dimples flashed in a fleeting smile. “You have to agree we have potential.”

Gail raked fingers through her curly blonde hair, her expression serious again. “We’re in hock to our eyeballs. I used up all of Pete’s and my savings. You used all your money. None of the banks will give us a loan. We can declare bankruptcy and admit defeat. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it’s not what I want.” Mary Beth rubbed her aching temples where the beginnings of a major headache pounded. “We’ve poured our blood and guts into this place. I don’t mind the killer hours because it’s our company, our dream.” She blew out a breath. “I have no appetite for going back to taking orders from chefs who just want to get the food out, assembly-line style. But I can’t sell to Sackett. Anybody but them.”

Tight lines etched around Gail’s mouth. “Why not? Sackett is one of the strongest companies in Delaware. They’re offering us a chance to stay free, to make our dream come true.”

“I know,” Mary Beth said. “It’s just…I went to high school with Tom Sackett.” Saying his name boiled the old feelings of love, hope, and betrayal into a stew of conflicting emotions, tightening her stomach.

“That’s good, right?”

“We didn’t part friends. I can’t forget what Tom did. I don’t trust him.”

“Suppose you tell me about it.”

Mary Beth shook her head. “I can’t.” To dredge up the past would force her to relive the old pain she’d fought so hard to overcome.

Gail shot her a look filled with determination and quiet desperation. “Don’t pull the stubborn act on me. Our future depends on this.”

Guilt stabbed at Mary Beth’s gut. She owed Gail. A lot. Clasping her hands tightly together, she said, “Tom belonged to the rich, cool crowd at St. Anselm’s Prep. I attended on a hardship grant. I fell in love with him when I tutored him in English junior year. We started dating the middle of senior year. It bothered me that we never went out with his friends. I wondered if they even knew about us, but I was so crazy for him, I shrugged off my doubts.

“When Tom asked me to the graduation formal, I was ecstatic. I figured he must care for me, too, and was ready to tell the world. Was I ever wrong.” She blinked away tears.

“What happened?” Gail asked softly.

Mary Beth pressed her hands against her stomach and fought for control. “We had fun that night. At first, Tom and I danced and laughed. I ignored the snickers and sly looks from his friends. He took me out to the patio where we could be alone. We kissed.”

She touched her lips, remembering that kiss, remembering that night. Bittersweet sorrow spread through her. “A magical kiss filled with love, hope, and dreams. I told him I loved him and wanted to spend my life with him.” She chewed her lip. “To this day, I can’t believe I said that. It makes me want to gag.”

“You were a teenager,” Gail said. “Young girls tend to be melodramatic. What did Tom say?”

“Nothing. He didn’t have to. His friends said it for him.” Anger made bile rise in Mary Beth’s throat.