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Authors: Desiree Holt

Tags: #Western romance, #erotic western romance, #contemporary western romance

Playing with Fire (27 page)

BOOK: Playing with Fire
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“Monday, you need to call that idiot at the bank and see if either of your folks had a safety deposit box he conveniently forgot to mention to you.” He bit into a sandwich as if it was Howard Cook’s head.

She giggled then turned sober. “But Neil or Howard would have told me when we went over all the paperwork. Wouldn’t they?”

“Not necessarily. If one of them is our killer, they’d just as soon not have you find out. If it’s not at dimwit Howard’s bank, you could try Bank of America where you have your account. Or maybe we need to start checking the banks in San Antonio.”

Cassie blew out her breath and grimaced. “That’s a job and a half.” She snapped her fingers. “But, if we need to do it, I think I know someone who can help us. She’s very good at sneaking into computer records.”

“You can’t go hacking into the banks’ records, sugar.” He grinned. “I think they put you in jail for that.”

“First they have to find out,” she reminded him.

“I didn’t know I was marrying a potential felon,” Griff joked. He leaned over and kissed her.

She ran her tongue over his lips, tasting the special blend of ham, potato salad, and the special essence that was Griff. She’d already concluded kissing him was one of the most pleasurable experiences of her life.

They had just finished bagging their trash when the real estate agent drove up. He handed Griffin a folder with all the information on the property then suggested they walk at least part of it. When they reached the crest of the hill, Cassie drew in her breath in awe and amazement. The ground sloped away to a creek below, and everywhere she looked, the area was guarded by old oak trees and sycamore. Wildflowers grew in abundant profusion, coloring the landscape with their brilliant reds and blues and yellows.

She reached for Griff’s hand and squeezed it, hard. His answering pressure told her he knew what she wanted and he did, too. In another hour, they were done, signing a contract to purchase and giving the agent a deposit check for escrow. They were filled with excitement and yes, optimism on the ride home.

“Our very own piece of property,” Cassie crowed. “We need to start thinking about plans and getting an architect.”

“In a hurry, are we, darlin?” He smiled at her.

“You bet. I feel like we’re in a different world out here.”

“We are. And a lot closer to Austin than San Antonio, so even our city trips will be different.”

“Oh, Griff.” She hugged his arm. “I’m having a hard time believing our good luck.”

That same luck continued to hold because, as they neared Stoneham, Cassie’s cell phone rang.

“Carol Markham,” she told him as she glanced at the Caller ID.

“Cassie, you won’t believe this,” the woman gushed. “I just have to pat myself on the back.”

She rolled her eyes. “What is it, Carol?”

“We have a buyer. And almost the full price you want.” She giggled. “Am I good or what!”

“Yes, Carol. You’re terrific.” She forced herself to sound enthusiastic. In truth, she was very happy. She would be more than glad to at last be rid of the house that carried so much pain and unhappiness.

“I’ve got a signed agreement to purchase,” Carol continued, “and a good faith check. If you’re okay with this, I’d like to drop by tonight so I can get your signature and we can proceed to closing.”

“That’s fine. I’m staying at Griff’s, so why don’t you come by there?” She should have been used to the long silences she always received any time she paired herself with Griffin.

“I see. Well. All right, if that’s what you want. Is seven okay?”

Cassie stifled a laugh. “Yes, that’ll be fine.” She disconnected the call and let the laugh bubble out. “We won’t have to worry if someone hasn’t heard the news anymore. Oh Lordy, Griff, I’d give a month’s pay to have seen her face.”

“Tonight should be interesting, sugar. Very interesting.” He squeezed her hand. “Now, if we can just find that safety deposit box, we’ll be in clover.”

 

Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

When Carol walked into Griff’s house that night, the air was thick with tension. Cassie refused to let him hide in another room, reminding him that, after all, it was his home. Carol pointedly ignored him while they all sat at the kitchen table, but it was hard for her not to notice the engagement ring, which Cassie took every opportunity to flash.

“Yes,” Cassie said, noticing Carol’s avid glances, “Griffin and I are getting married. Just as soon as we can.”

Carol’s gaze slid from one to the other. “I see. Isn’t that interesting.”

Cassie wished she’d had a camera to take a picture of the woman’s face at that moment. The careful mask disintegrated, and her eyes bulged. Her mouth looked like that of a gaping fish. With visible effort, she pulled herself together and gathered up her materials. At last, everything was signed. Carol handed a copy of the agreement to Cassie and put everything else back into her folder.

“The buyers are a very nice couple,” she said. “Older. Retired. They want to close and take possession in three weeks, if possible. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Cassie shook her head. “My biggest problem is going to be getting rid of the furniture. Otherwise, I’m okay.”

“I’m guessing you’ll have a place to stay.” It was a statement, not a question, and tinged with more than a little sarcasm.

“Yes, that’s not a problem.” Cassie stood and moved closer to Griff.

“I guess you know what you’re doing, but if you ask me, you’re making a huge mistake.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask you.” Cassie’s voice was sweeter than sugar. “Thanks for coming by. Just let me know when the closing is.”

Carol ran from the house.

Griff and Cassie looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Well,” he said, “you’re right. We won’t have to worry about telling anyone our news.”

“Good.” She hugged him. “I’d put it on the front page of the paper if they’d take my ad.”

“If you think people bothered you before,” Griff warned, “just wait until tomorrow.”

“By the time church is over, it will be better than an ad,” she agreed.

She was right. They had just finished a late breakfast before they heard a car in the driveway followed by the ring of the doorbell.

“Here it comes,” Griff told her.

“I’m ready for them, and then some.”

She opened the door to the McLeod triad—Neil, Cyrus, and Leslie.

“Wow,” she said. “The big guns, huh? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Cassie.” Leslie stepped forward, the picture of poise and elegance. “We thought we’d stop by after church. May we come in for just a minute?”

“I think you should ask Griffin. This is his house, after all.”

Three pairs of icy eyes swept over Griff who stood behind Cassie, his hands on her shoulders in a protective gesture.

“By all means,” he drawled. “Welcome to my home.”

They trooped with military precision into the living room, arranging themselves on the furniture.

“We’re a little busy,” Cassie told them, “so I hope this won’t take too long. I’m right in assuming this isn’t just a nice Welcome Wagon visit?”

It appeared Leslie was taking the lead today. “Cassie, you know how fond we all are of you, and how fond we were of your parents,” she began.

“No, Leslie. Tell me. I don’t seem to remember being invited to any of your parties. Diane, either. And when did your parents ever socialize with mine?”

“I think you’re being deliberately obtuse,” she snapped. “You have to know that everyone has your best interests at heart. We’re concerned about what’s happening to you. We may not have been close friends, but that doesn’t mean Neil and I aren’t very concerned about what you’re doing.”

“After yesterday’s phone calls and Carol’s visit, I wondered how long it would take for you all to show up. If you’re here to ask me if the rumors are true and I’m going to marry Griffin Hunter, the answer is yes.” She flashed her ring at them. “It’s official.”

“Now listen, Cassie,” Cyrus began.

Cassie went on as smoothly as if no one had spoken. “If you want to know if I’m going to quit poking into Diane’s death, or my father’s so-called suicide, the answer is no. You can save yourselves any more visits and phone calls. My answers won’t change. Does that about cover it?”

Cyrus scowled. “Funny. I don’t remember you as being this headstrong.”

“I think determined is more like it,” she told him. “I’d sure like to know why everyone is so hell bent on sweeping Diane’s murder under the rug. Don’t you want to find the real killer?” She studied each face in turn. “Isn’t anyone worried it could happen again?”

Neil’s mouth was set in an angry line. “No, I don’t think it will happen again. Unless it happens to you.”

White heat consumed her, a rage so great she wasn’t sure she could control it. “Do you want to explain that to me?”

“You may be blind, Cassie, but I think we all know who’s the culprit here.” He glanced at Griff. “It’s just a matter of proving it. But if you want to put yourself in harm’s way, I guess that’s your choice.”

She clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. Behind her, she felt the tension radiating from Griff’s body like a solid mass. “You come into a man’s home and insult him that way? Who the hell do you think you are? And why, after all these years, are any of you interested in the Fitzgerald family?”

Cyrus rose and took a step forward, restraining Neil with a hand on his arm. “Cassie, you were always the good girl in your family. The one with bright promise. You’ve made a good life for yourself. Why are you throwing it away and putting yourself in jeopardy?”

“Everyone’s just concerned for you, Cassie,” Neil added.

Cassie snorted. “Yeah, right. If you’re that concerned, you can help me get at the real truth here.”

“Don’t you see, Cassie?” All eyes turned to Leslie. “All you’re doing is bringing up unpleasant memories that everyone would just as soon forget. Poor Diane’s murder was the single violent crime in Stoneham for fifty years.”

“And my father’s. Let’s not forget about him.”

“Your father’s death was ruled a suicide, and that’s what it was.” Cyrus used his stern legal manner. He gave her a definite look of disapproval. “Everyone knew how depressed he was. If you’d been here, you would have known that, too.”

“We’d all be a lot better,” Neil said to Griff, “if you’d get your hooks out of this girl. Own up to Diane’s death and stop filling Cassie’s head with crazy ideas.”

“Well,” he drawled, “I think that’s up to Cassie.”

She went to stand next to him, purposely wrapping her arms around him and moving as close to him as she could. The trio rose as one.

“You’re making a big mistake, Cassie.” This from Cyrus. It seemed they each had specific lines in this little drama. “You don’t know this man as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe not, but I’m having a lot of fun getting to know him better.” She smiled up at Griffin.

The McLeods filed toward the door.

Leslie turned before they left. “I thought we could give you some good advice but it seems you’re not interested. When you get hurt, don’t come crying to any of us. Your house has already been broken into. Who knows what could happen next.”

“Is that a threat?” Griffin’s voice was deceptively calm.

“Of course not.” Leslie glared at him as if she smelled something bad. “We just don’t want any harm to come to Cassie. I’d say you’re the one threat she has to worry about.”

“By the way, Neil,” Cassie called out. “Did you forget to tell me about the safety deposit box my folks had at the bank?”

They all stopped dead.

Neil turned in slow motion to face her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, a box in the bank for important papers? I believe my folks had one. Did you deliberately leave out that little piece of information?”

“You must be mistaken,” he said, his body rigid. “I gave you everything of theirs I had. You should stop making crazy accusations.”

“Well, you can pass the word that I’m going to keep stirring the pot until I get the answers I want. The sooner I get them, the faster I’ll be out of everyone’s hair.” She had to restrain herself from slamming the door as they filed out.

They got into Neil’s car and backed out of the driveway. She held onto her temper by a slender thread.

Griff sensed it and came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Let it go, sugar. They have their own agenda, and nothing you say will change it.”

“Don’t you think it’s very interesting that every time I get a little closer or a little more aggressive, someone jumps all over me about it? My telephone calls the other day must have stirred up more of a hornet’s nest than I thought.”

“You might have gotten a little more than you bargained for,” he warned. “I don’t trust any of these people. Someone out there is dangerous. I’ve about decided that whoever Diane’s mysterious lover was, a lot of people know about it and aren’t anxious for it to come out. And I’m not so sure she wasn’t involved with more men than him.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“Money meant everything to Diane.” Bitterness laced his words. “It was a huge shock to her when she discovered the money I threw around was all I had. There wasn’t some big pot of gold hidden away. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was pushing more than one person. I’d sure like to find proof of that.”

“Me, too.” She pressed herself against his chest. “Do you really think someone will try to hurt me?”

“I hope not, but we’re getting into some murky waters here. Malicious mischief may be more their style at the moment, though.” He tucked a finger beneath her chin and tilted up her face. “You should call Carol Markham and get her to put a
Sold
sign out today. You don’t want any more damage to that house. They might leave it alone if they know it’s sold. “

“On the other hand,” she countered, “if someone’s in a real panic, they might want to break in to search it one more time.”

“I still think the sign’s a good idea, but we’ll keep an eye on the house. Asking Dangler to watch it is like spitting in the wind.”

BOOK: Playing with Fire
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ads

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