Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (9 page)

 
A
toddler’s squeal drew BJ over to her second floor office window overlooking the south side of Strand Street at LaKing’s Confectionery and Ice Cream Parlor. Her knit brows relaxed.

A mother and father, holding the toddler’s hand, swung the little boy high into the air. His feet landed on the next step in a long succession of steps leading into LaKing’s. Another peal of happy screams rent the air. BJ’s gaze followed the trio until they successfully reached the entrance and were lost from sight.

She could envision them inside the parlor having an ice cream cone, and later the little boy with his nose pressed against the glass of the confectionery counter drooling over some Gummy Bears for later.

The poignant scene left BJ regrettably sad for the choice she’d made to stay single. But a choice, in her opinion, she didn’t take lightly and would adhere to strictly. Not knowing whose offspring she hailed from or the history of her biological family, she wouldn’t dare bear children for fear of what lay dormant within her genes.

She turned from the window rubbing the back of her neck. Head bowed, her hand lingered until her heart and mind settled the matter, closing the door once and forever …
again
.

A small doubt remained, which she chose to ignore.

BJ grimaced when she saw the folded slip of paper she’d found inside her purse after returning from Serenity. Where it had come from she wasn’t certain. Propped against the desk lamp next to Professor Cox’s letter, she didn’t have to look at it to know what the note said.

We don’t want your kind in Serenity. Leave and don’t come back, or next time it won’t be your tires
.

She should have called the Serenity police and told them about the note. But what good could they do? Hadn’t Chief Doggett said something similar the night he’d pulled her over?

The letter from her friend and mentor, Professor Terrance Cox, notifying her the donor money had dried up, had come the same day she’d found the note in her purse. The donor money had enabled her to keep her dream alive of the photography/art studio for the youth of Galveston for five years.

The decision to accept the inheritance was taken from her hands. The timing of Ms. Loveless’ bequest was providential. And without the estate money, her program would be in financial hot water. There’d be no way to keep the doors open for the children. But with the estate money, she could hire help and sponsor more schools all over Texas, just like the one here in Galveston.

Heritage House would also be kept open for the year, and longer if necessary, to find families who desired children, to give the kids a fighting chance.

Taking a glance around her office that doubled as her art workroom, she gave a sigh of resignation. She loved her space. And now she was destined to be uprooted, her life molded into something not of her making.

Even before the letter had come from Professor Cox, she’d worked all week getting her affairs in order, laying out her plans for the shop, meetings with her manager. And now, the call couldn’t be put off any longer. She felt like screaming
it isn’t fair
.

She grabbed Horace T.’s business card and dialed.

T
h
e bullet-riddled road sign gleamed in the sun but barely readable …
Welcome to Serenity, Texas—Population 2,871

Uncertainty, cloaked in dread, clutched at BJ’s insides. The weakness in her knees and tight grip on the steering wheel didn’t show much confidence. Her decision would probably prove to be a mistake of the worst kind.

At the split of FM 316, BJ angled her car to the right entering the town on Main at the far end. She slowed the Jeep as the car began to bounce in protest to the red brick road.

Memories of Jace and her racing down Main Street in his ’57 Chevy, music blaring, bouncing hard enough to scramble her brains, brought a smile to her lips. Those were enjoyable days. No doubt about it, she could remember good even fun times—the memories weren’t all bad.

Ahead on the right, Harvey’s Filler-Up Quick Mart came into view. The gas gauge closer to empty than not, BJ pulled into the drive and up to the antiquated pumps. She climbed out of the car, opened her gas cap. Before she could extract the handle, a beefy hand, with deep imbedded grease, grabbed the nozzle, halting in midair.

“Well, Billy Jo, that you?”

The deep, gravelly voice sounded vaguely familiar. She glanced up into the dark curious eyes of a much older face of one of the Rueger boys. Jerry—Ben, hard to tell. Jerry worked for her, or at least he worked on the estate.

His slow grin revealed one tooth missing. The others were stained yellow from tobacco use, if the putrid brown spittle in the corner creases of his mouth was any indication.

“Yeah. Which twin are you?” Already aware of the answer, she offered a slight smile. BJ wonder if he and his brother still got into trouble, or had they outgrown the desire to become Serenity’s proclaimed public enemy number one and two?

“I’m Ben. My brother works up on the hill now.”

She nodded, not willing to touch that subject.

BJ wouldn’t call him a friend, he or his brother. More like an acquaintance. With a graduating class of forty-nine students, she could pretty well remember everyone by name, the good ones … and the bad.

He whistled through his teeth startling her. “Sweet ride. Yours?” His eyes roamed over her Wrangler.

This time, her smile broadened for real as she gazed at her bug-splattered Jeep. “Yes. It’s mine.”

“
Humph
. Wouldn’ta thought you’d own one of these. You know—” He scrunched his nose, shrugging. “—you being a girl and all.”

No, she didn’t know.

Ben wiped his hands on his wrinkled, greasy overalls that looked beyond redemption and smelled heavy of old sweat. A black smudge rode the thick line of his jaw. His scraggly hair, tied back in a pencil-thin ponytail at the nape, hung halfway down his back. He tugged the sweat-stained John Deere cap lower over his eyes. The hat had a missing
e
, and the ragged, threadbare bill curled to perfection.

After offering a lopsided grin, with his tongue he shoved the chew to his other cheek before tucking his head and tending to the task of filling her car. But not before she noticed him throw a furtive glance in her direction.

The urge to get back into the Jeep and drive off was hard to resist. Instead, she moved a few feet away.

“Fill ’er up?”

“Yes, please.” She gazed at the station. “Does Harvey still own this place?”

“Yep.”

He leaned his hip against the pump. His gaze blazed a trail over her body.

BJ worked hard to hide her revulsion.

 After adjusting the gas lever, he regained his former posture and gave another low whistle as his eyes continued their journey.

“Looks like life’s treated you pretty good.” When she raised her brows, he laughed and continued. “You know … the money and Rose Mansion. Couldn’t have come out smelling any sweeter if’n you’d been born in the family.”

BJ, uncomfortable with the conversation, scrambled to change the subject. “How long you been working here?” His continued vigil of her body deepened her discomfort.

“Close to two years now. Won’t be here after today, though.”

“Oh? How come?”

“Got a new job. Working for the Drunken T.”

Since BJ didn’t know if the Drunken T was a beer joint or a ranch, the name didn’t mean a whole lot. When she didn’t comment, he appeared perturbed.

“It’s one of the biggest spreads in the county. Lot bigger than Jason’s. Soon to be the largest in Texas.” He grinned and puffed out his chest.

“Ah.” She moved to the front of her Jeep looking around, distancing herself, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Heard tell you were coming back. Figured you wouldn’t pass up the chance of all that money.”

She stiffened. Her temper boiled. Why couldn’t the people of Serenity mind their own business and stay out of hers?

“I guess you’re here to move in?” Ben nodded in the direction of Rose Mansion built on the highest spot in town, barely visible from where they stood.

BJ held her temper, holding on to what little composure she had left. She’d like nothing better than to tell him what he could do with his
guess
. “No. I’m not.” She smiled, knowing it didn’t quite match the anger in her eyes. The forced civility was almost impossible to master. Doing so pricked. Seeing the shock on Ben’s face, gave her a small bit of satisfaction though.

“Well ...”

The pump clicked off, drawing Ben’s attention. Whatever brilliant piece of news he was about to impart, he didn’t. He replaced the nozzle, then closed the cap. With a noticeable limp, one she didn’t remember seeing when he was younger, he headed toward the building.

Wishing she’d never stopped here in the first place, she snatched her purse from the front seat. Temper stoked, BJ did her best to calm down before entering the Quick Mart, fearing she might say something she’d regret.

Inside, the store didn’t look much different than the few times she’d stopped in with Jason to get gas for his old truck. Dingy, uninviting, the smell of rancid grease that permeated the air and always seemed to stick to your hair and clothing when quitting the place was still the order of the day. The sooner she got out of there the better.

Placing her money on the counter, she turned to look at the place. Behind smudged glass dried-up, overcooked chicken, shriveled fries and okra, sat in containers waiting for desperate hungry customers.

Hearing the cash drawer shut, she grabbed her change. “Thanks.”

“No prob. See ya around.”

Soundless words crossed her lips. “Not if I can help it.”

She walked from the building into bright sunshine, breathing in a refreshing breath of clean, fresh air, purging the putrid air of the store. Cold gripped her warm skin. An eerie sensation Ben was watching caused gooseflesh to rise on her arms. She climbed into the Jeep but couldn’t stop from directing her gaze at the store.

Ben leaned against the door casing, hands in pockets, his hat no longer shielding his face as he wore a rigid expression watching her drive away.

Chalk it up to small town oddity or his overt stare, it didn’t matter—he creeped her out.

Her getaway from Harvey’s wasn’t near fast enough. In the rearview, she noticed Ben stood fixed until he was a speck in her mirror.  

Shoving her revulsion aside, she drove down Main Street, her eyes roamed the storefronts. The streets with high sidewalks, built for a bygone era of horses and buggies, fronted quaint shops painted in heritage colors. Some were occupied, some vacant. Only a smidgen of people passed beneath the oversized awnings.

Sadie’s Diner came into sight and BJ’s courage took a nose dive.

Three older men sat in brightly paint-chipped metal lawn chairs in front of Sadie’s shootin’ the breeze. They stopped talking long enough to be curious about the driver behind the wheel of the black Jeep. One man in faded overalls lifted his hand to shade his eyes against the sun’s glare. BJ figured he wanted a better look at the outsider. Another one pulled his cowboy hat off, slapped it along his thigh. “Well, I’ll be,” drifted in her open window. Their heads came together, lips flapping faster than leaves in a windstorm, as the man pointed in her direction with his black, dusty Stetson.

Under her breath BJ chuckled. No doubt she would be the topic of the town this Saturday morning and probably well into the night. Who knows? Might even last through Sunday.

Averting her face from the
Silver Slipper Gang
, she added just enough pressure to the gas pedal to move past their curious eyes without appearing to flee their scrutiny.

The townsfolk had always been at their best when BJ was at her worst. They could spread her misdeeds through town and back to Heritage House quicker than she could skip a rock across Fielder’s pond. And with the results often ending ... Those were memories best left forgotten.

At least she had nothing to fear. The danger she’d ran from years ago, well … she was older, wiser, and no one, badge or no badge, would scare her off this time. She wouldn’t leave until she was good and ready.

H
e
waited for her. Had been for an hour or so. His juices began to flow when he spotted the black Jeep passing Sadie’s, heading in the direction of the mansion. In one fluid motion, he lifted his cap higher on his forehead, sat up, reaching for the ignition key. When the old truck purred to life, he shifted into gear, backed out, then followed the Wrangler at a distance.

As she turned into the drive and stopped, he didn’t look her way, just passed on by, and drove around the corner. He pulled into an abandoned, overgrown road he’d found a few days ago, thanking his lucky star for leading him to the spot.

The day he found the unused road was the same day he found the path leading to the back of Rose Mansion’s property and the unused gate. That day he picked the lock and oiled the hinges on the gate for quiet, unhampered access. He prowled the grounds of Rose Mansion for the best spots to observe and be close to his prey. On that day was when he decided to have some fun and play with his victim for a while before finishing the job.

The woman had gotten under his skin and the only way he knew how to eradicate the problem was to get his fill of the delectable Ms. Spencer before he completed his mission.