The Loner (33 page)

As she and Billy drove into the high-rise parking garage that adjoined the steel and glass DeWitt & Blackthorne office building, she voiced her fear aloud. “What if Uncle Harry can’t help us?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble,” Billy said. “Let’s wait and see what he has to say.”

The computer directory on the main floor of the towering building told them Harry Blackthorne had his office on the 40th floor, but they had to go through rigorous security before they could get on the elevator.

“Probably noticed how many Texans out there with guns don’t like lawyers,” Billy said.

“At least Uncle Harry is harmless. Why are you so nervous?”

“Don’t like courtrooms. Don’t like judges. Really don’t like lawyers,” Billy muttered.

The receptionist on the 40th floor was immaculately groomed and could have modeled for a New York agency. “Mr. Blackthorne is expecting you,” she said. “Follow the hallway to the left. It’s the corner office.”

Summer noticed that the anxiety Billy had let her see downstairs was absent when they entered Harry Blackthorne’s office.

The older man, who was as tall as all the Blackthornes and had ice-blue eyes and a full head of silver-gray hair, rose and stretched out his hand to Billy. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackthorne,” Billy replied.

“Call me Uncle Harry,” the older man said with a genial smile as he released Billy’s hand.

Summer took a step closer and rose on tiptoe to kiss the old man on the cheek. “Hi, Uncle Harry.”

“It’s good to see you, Missy. I’m sorry it’s under such sad circumstances. Why don’t you two sit down?” Harry said, gesturing toward two brass-studded burgundy leather armchairs on the opposite side of his desk. “And let’s get down to business.”

“I noticed you were expecting us,” Billy said. “How did you know we were coming?”

“Mrs. Creed called on your father’s behalf and told me you were on your way. I would have been in contact with you anyway, Summer. As you know, I handle both your parents’ estates. A few weeks ago your mother sent me an envelope to be passed on to you in the event of her death. Since you’re here, I can deliver it to you in person.”

Summer exchanged a look with Billy. Was it going to
be this easy? Had her mother left a note explaining everything and exonerating Blackjack?

“I got it out of the safe this morning,” Harry said, shuffling through the papers on his desk. “Here it is.”

Summer recognized the vellum envelope with the Circle B brand in the corner. She took it and stared down at her name in her mother’s handwriting. She turned to Billy and said, “Should I open it now?”

“It’s up to you.”

“It might be something legal,” Summer said, glancing up at her great-uncle Harry.

Harry Blackthorne shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know. The envelope was sealed, and I put it away never imagining I’d be handing it over so soon.”

Summer ripped open one end and pulled out a piece of Bitter Creek stationery. She let the envelope slip to her lap as she read the letter.

Summer’s heart was pounding as she finished reading and she felt nauseous. How could her mother believe she would betray her father to have Bitter Creek? Had her mother really believed her life was in danger? Summer couldn’t believe she’d really been afraid. But what had provoked her to write this letter so close to her death? And what “answer” had her mother left for her to find?

This letter suggested there was another letter somewhere that would answer the question of what had really happened to her mother and which might provide the key to free her father. All she had to do was figure out where that “answer” was hidden.

Summer read the letter again. And again.

“What does it say?” Billy asked.

“It says there’s a clue in this letter to what really happened. But I don’t see it!”

“Let me take a look,” Billy said.

Summer passed the letter to him and studied his face while he read it. He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “This doesn’t say anything helpful that I can see. But it sounds like she’s left another letter somewhere that explains more.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Summer said.

“May I take a look?” Harry asked.

Billy glanced at Summer, who nodded, and he handed the letter over to the lawyer.

“What is she talking about, Uncle Harry?” Summer asked.

“Damned if I know,” Harry said. “But what’s here doesn’t help your father in the least. If anything, it implicates him by suggesting that your mother knew he loved another woman and had threatened her.”

Summer choked back a sob. “Do you recognize the clue she’s said is there?”

“It’s as much a mystery to me as it is to you,” he said, handing the letter back to her.

“Did she leave anything else with you?” Summer asked. “What about her will? Is there anything written there that might be useful or be the ‘answer’ she mentioned?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry, Missy. Just who gets what and when. Maybe that letter you’re holding will mean something to your father.”

“Of course!” Summer said, jumping up. “You can fax it to the jail and—”

“That’s not a good idea,” Billy interrupted.

“Why not?” Summer asked.

Billy looked at the lawyer, who deferred to Billy with a nod. “Because the law enforcement officer who receives the fax would see that it implicates Blackjack. And it could become evidence against him.”

“Then we’d better get going,” Summer said. “We have to get this to Daddy right away.” Her uncle was already on his feet, and Summer kissed him on the cheek again
and said, “Thank you, Uncle Harry. If you think of anything, please leave a message for me at the Castle.”

Uncle Harry patted her on the shoulder and said, “I hope you can figure it all out. I don’t think your father had anything to do with what happened to your mother.”

“Thank you, Uncle Harry.”

Summer was already gone from the room when Billy turned back and said, “Just out of curiosity, why do you think Blackjack is innocent?”

“Because if he’d murdered Eve, you’d have found his fingerprints on her throat.”

“Gotcha,” Billy said.

Billy caught up with Summer in the hall, where she’d stopped to talk to some guy in a thousand-dollar suit. It took Billy a moment to recognize him. It was Summer’s former fiancé.

“Billy, you remember Geoffrey, don’t you?” Summer said, putting herself between the two men as she introduced them.

Geoffrey offered his hand and said, “Congratulations on your marriage. You’re a lucky man.”

Billy didn’t want to shake the other man’s hand, but there was no way out of it. “I know I am.”

In his head Billy was making the comparison Summer had to be making, between the handsome, well-dressed, well-educated—and rich—lawyer she’d turned down, and the man in blue jeans and a weather-worn Western shirt she’d married. He forced himself to control the belligerence that always rose when he felt defensive.

“I’ve never seen you in your milieu, Geoffrey,” Summer said as she looked him up and down. “You look like you can knock them dead in court.”

“Well, I’m a little more effective there than I seem to be in your average parking lot,” Geoffrey said as he eyed Billy and rubbed his chin. The lawyer was smiling to make a joke of it, but Billy felt his neckhairs hackle at the reminder of how badly he’d wanted to shove good-old-Geoffrey’s teeth down his throat.

Billy put a possessive arm around Summer’s waist and said, “It was nice seeing you, but we have to go.” He was glad she moved with him, because he wasn’t sure what he would have done if she hadn’t.

When they got past the receptionist Summer turned on him and said, “What in the world got into you? I was afraid that if he said one more word you were going to punch him in the nose.”

“If he had, I would have,” Billy said.

“What is your problem?” Summer said. “I didn’t choose him, I chose you.”

“Yeah, but why, Summer? What I don’t understand is why? He’s got everything a woman could want. I’ve got nothing.”

“I want a
man
, Billy. Geoffrey is a boy dressed in grown-up clothes. You’re so much more than he could ever be. You’re determined and courageous and you never,
ever
give up.”

Billy stared at her. He hadn’t known how much he’d needed to hear her say what she was saying. He turned his back on her and swallowed noisily. He felt her at his shoulder and turned his face away.

“I know I should have said this a long time ago, because I’ve felt it for a very long time. I love you, Billy.”

It was everything he’d ever dreamed of hearing her say. Everything he’d ever hoped. He’d turned to tell her
he loved her, too, when the elevator doors opened with a loud
ding
.

The elevator was full of people, and Billy bit his tongue to keep from spilling his feelings in front of them. She was fidgeting, and he grabbed her hand and held it tight.

“Take it easy,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out.”

“When did you start caring about Blackjack?” Summer whispered.

“I don’t care about him. I care about you.” He wanted to say more, but he needed privacy to do it. “I don’t want you unhappy. If that means saving Blackjack, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Thanks, Billy,” Summer said as she squeezed his hand.

Summer practically ran from the elevator to Billy’s old Dodge and was inside waiting for Billy when he got there. They would be on their way in a moment, with plenty of time and privacy ahead of them for him to tell her that he loved her.

Except his pickup wouldn’t start.

“Perfect!” Summer said, pounding the dash. “This is just perfect.”

Billy got out and put the hood up to look at the engine. “Damn,” he said.

“What is it?” Summer said, joining him.

“Alternator.”

“How long will it take to fix that?”

“Couple of hours, if I can find the part.”

“What do you mean, ‘if’ you can find the part?”

“It’s an old truck, Summer. Parts aren’t always easy to find.”

“Then leave it. We’ll find another way to get back.”

“I’m going to need my truck, Summer. I can’t just leave it here.”

“Why not? It’s a piece of junk. We’ll buy another one.”

“With what money?”

Summer stared at him without blinking, and Billy realized she must be expecting some sort of inheritance from her mother.

“How much?” he said flatly.

“Not more than a couple of million,” she said. “Most of her estate was land, and that went to Aunt Ellen.”

“Sonofabitch,” he said. “Why did you marry me, Summer? You sure as hell weren’t hoping I’d be able to take care of you, because you can take damned fine care of yourself!”

“I told you why,” she said, standing toe-to-toe with him. “I love you.”

He wanted to believe her. What other reason could she have for staying with him? He wanted to tell her that he loved her, too. Had always loved her. Would always love her. The words were on the tip of his tongue.

But what kind of man lived off money provided by the woman he loved? He wouldn’t be able to face himself in the mirror. It had ruined his father, turned him into a mean, slothful drunk. Billy couldn’t bear to end up that way. But he knew in his heart that sooner or later he’d resent Summer’s money. He couldn’t help it.

It might be old-fashioned. But he wanted to be the one to take care of her. And that was never going to happen.

“What do you want to do, Billy?”

He wanted to call around town and find an alternator and fix his pickup. But they were running out of time to save Blackjack. Summer needed him now more than she ever had. He would just have to swallow his pride and let her spend her money to get them both home.

He slammed down the hood and said, “Let’s go buy a new truck.”

Sam’s house was empty. Again. For a short time it had been a home full of love and laughter. And he’d given it all away. To his brother. But how could he have fought for Emma, when it meant stealing away his brother’s child?

After his ultimatum to Luke, Emma had finally spoken. She’d turned to his brother and said, “I need to pack a bag. Then I’d appreciate a ride back to the C-Bar.”

She hadn’t spoken a word to him.

Luke had glared at him, sullen and defiant. “I don’t have to marry Emma to be a father to my kid.”

“Emma deserves a husband,” Sam had said. “Your child deserves his father.”

They hadn’t spoken another word while they waited for Emma. It hadn’t taken her long. It was a small bag, and not heavy, but Sam moved forward to take it from her. She pulled it out of his reach and said, “I’m not a cripple.”

She bit her lip, but he’d already backed away. She didn’t protest when Luke took the bag for her and said, “You ready?”

She nodded. She didn’t look at him when she said, “Good-bye, Sam.”

“I’ll see you at the wedding,” he’d said.

She hadn’t replied, just turned and walked out the screen door. Luke had let it slam behind them.

Sam had left the house in his truck and returned with a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. He’d poured himself a glass of Jack Daniel’s and set it on the kitchen table and stared at it. He wanted a drink. He needed a drink. He figured if there was ever an excuse to take one, this was it.