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Before setting foot in his house, she would definitely be checking him out with some people around town, just to make sure it was safe.
Safe.
A chill slid through her. It was a word that meant a lot more to her now, after the fear and worry of the past six months. But here, she and Sophie would have a fresh start, far away from the troubles that had dogged them in Chicago. Luckily, that was all over, and who would ever bother to follow them to tiny Lone Wolf, Texas, anyway?
No one. Absolutely no one at all.
“I HAVE NO IDEA how you can find anything in this mess.” Joel shook his head, looking at the piles of papers on the receptionist’s desk. “You’re sure it’s here?”
“To the right, by the phone,” Walt called out from the back room, where he was castrating an Australian shepherd. “Blue paper.”
Slips of paper fluttered to the floor while Joel searched that stack, then the amorphous pile in the center of the desk. “Nothing. How come you didn’t hire a replacement when Elena told you she was leaving?”
Long silence.
“Walt?”
Concerned, Joel hurried down the hall. He found Walt standing beside the surgery table, his palms braced on the stainless steel surface and his head bowed. The dog in front of him was still out like a light. “Are you okay?”
Walt lifted his head and gave Joel a tired smile. “Fine. Just…thinking.”
“You know this is too much for you.”
Walt shrugged as he reached over to turn off the gas on the anesthesia machine, then finished up a few more stitches. “I’ve got another vet starting in December, and your cousin Liza will be done with vet school next spring. I’ll be able to slow down, then.”
“If you make it that long. What about office help? A vet tech?”
“You find one who’ll come out to this town, and she’s got a job. Want to help me move this guy to the floor? You take the hips—easy, now.”
They gently positioned the dog on a soft bed of blankets.
“What about hiring some high school girl? Someone who loves animals.” Joel studied the sleeping dog. “Someone who can lift fifty pounds of dead weight and not suffer the next day.”
Walt’s eyes gleamed. “Sorry, maybe I should have moved him myself.”
“I’m talking about you. Next thing you know, you’ll be in traction.”
Walt stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve advertised. I’ve asked around. Town this size, the labor pool is more like a puddle, and half the people I could think of were ones I wouldn’t trust with my animals or my books. But there is someone…she’s new around here, and she looks like she could use a job. Got a little girl to feed.”
“Not the new neighbor.”
“Why not? Looks like she’s a hard worker.” The dog twitched. Coughed. Walt bent down to remove the trach tube, then he straightened and watched as the dog started to wake up. “Lord knows, fixing up that place of hers will cost a fortune, and I’m guessing she doesn’t have a lot to work with.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Pretty little thing like her can’t do it all, but she sure hasn’t hired anyone to help her out. And that SUV of hers looks like it’s about to breathe its last. Sounds like it, too.”
Walt was right—she was definitely pretty, and Joel had found himself thinking about her way too often since he’d helped her move in. But he’d picked up on some bad vibes—and after fifteen years in law enforcement, he’d learned to listen to them. When he said he’d like to ask her a few questions, she’d gotten skittish. Wary.
It was nothing he could put his finger on, exactly, but until he knew more about her, she wasn’t someone who ought to get her hands on Walt’s books. It was sheer common sense.
“I think you should hold off a while. What do we know about her? Nothing.”
“Her aunt was Crystal Mae, and that’s enough for me.”
“Right. But even serial killers have normal people in their family tree.”
Walt snorted. “That’s what you think of that sweet little gal? That she’s a serial killer?”
“Of course not. But you need to be cautious. Remember telling me about how your dentist lost nearly everything to that accounting firm?”
“I hardly think—”
“And Beth plans to leave town in a few months, at any rate.” Joel thought fast. “Think of all you’d have to teach her. And,” he added after a deep breath, “I’d guess she needs time to work on that place of hers and get it done.”
Walt laughed. “Whale of a lot of protest, over a gal you don’t know.”
“Consider it professional advice. Steer clear.”
“Evil isn’t hiding behind every shadow, Joel,” Walt murmured as he started writing in the dog’s medical chart. “Maybe you worked at that detective job of yours too long.”
Okay, so maybe he was just a tad cynical. Burned out. He’d been through hell in more ways than one back in Detroit, and he wouldn’t even be in this town if that weren’t the case.
Beth Lindstrom might be the most honest person on the planet, but she’d seemed oddly edgy, and Walt was far too trusting. That recent asphalt scam wasn’t the only time he’d been taken in the last couple years. With just one crafty, light-fingered employee, everything he’d ever worked for could go up in smoke.
Joel was going to make sure that didn’t happen.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER SPENDING the day with a calculator, a legal pad and two local contractors, Beth felt too overwhelmed to even think straight.
The house had termites, black mold starting in the café storeroom, and a cracked foundation, for starters—nothing unusual in this part of Texas—but together they represented more money than she’d been able to salvage from selling her heavily mortgaged home in Illinois.
And that didn’t begin to touch the cosmetic projects that would enhance the café’s curb appeal for future buyers.
Once the walls were patched, the house would have to be painted, inside and out. The deeply scarred oak floors needed stripping. Several windows and doors had to be replaced, and if the stains on the upstairs bedroom ceilings were any clue, the roof had serious problems, too.
And the plumbing—she closed her eyes, trying not to remember the plumber’s look of shock that soon brightened to an avaricious gleam as he’d studied the antiquated pipes. A new water softener and iron filter alone would be over five hundred.
Her sister, Melanie, on yet another marriage and perpetually broke, had given Crystal’s property little thought since they’d received the inheritance five years ago. Beth had been equally guilty, caught up in her own world, and they’d let a careless Realtor manage both the upkeep and the rentals. No wonder the house had attracted just low-end types.
After Beth recouped her expenses, she and her sister planned to split the remaining profits. Beth had hoped her share would provide a significant down payment on a decent place to live in Billings, but that dream had faded with the last contractor. The cost of bringing this place up to code for a buyer’s mortgage inspection would probably approach or even exceed its market value.
She could do a lot of cosmetic work herself, but it still would have to be sold as a fixer-upper for a ridiculously low figure. Maybe Joel had been right about bulldozing the place and simply giving up. Unless…
Her heart picked up a faster beat as she took another hard look at the main floor, then walked into the kitchen, where she found Darwin on top of the old refrigerator, a foreleg, rear leg and his tail dangling down the front surface. He gave her a bored look and went back to sleep.
She studied the possibilities in the kitchen. Her excitement rose. Then dissolved.
Walt had mentioned opening the café again, and he’d said there wasn’t any competition for thirty or forty miles in any direction. Reopening the café would create income, and would increase its value to prospective buyers. But to open, she’d have to meet an entirely different set of codes, and that would take money she didn’t have, either.
“When can we go see the puppies?”
Sophie had been asking all day. “I don’t think…” Beth looked at the clock, wanting nothing more than to cancel that dinner invitation. But one glance at her child’s hopeful expression and she just couldn’t do it.
After seeing her entire life tipped upside down, Sophie had still taken everything in stride—leaving her pretty pink bedroom, the kids next door, the only house she’d ever known. And this was really such a small thing. What was the harm?
She managed a weary smile. “Guess we’d better get dressed and get over there. Can’t keep those pups waiting, right?”
AFTER A LONG, hot shower, Beth gave Sophie a bath and then lingered over her own closet, uncertain over what to wear. Until now there’d been no question—her worst jeans and shirts, because she’d been endlessly cleaning and scrubbing, and today, she’d started clearing out some of the rubbish in the yard.
But for an evening? Sophie immediately chose her favorite purple Dora dress, but most of Beth’s wardrobe was in storage back home. She finally grabbed cream slacks and a peach knit top, added gold hoops and a bracelet, then twisted her hair up in a loose bun.
Walt’s friendly greeting and his housekeeper’s welcoming smile made her thankful that she’d taken those few extra minutes to look nice. “You have a lovely home,” she murmured.
And it was. Most of the houses in town were single story with wood siding, and nearly all of them had deep, open porches to shade against the blistering Texas sun.
Walt’s home was a two-story brick, spacious and inviting, but with no pretensions of grandeur. Every bit of woodwork and furniture glowed softly from Maria’s loving care, and a mouthwatering aroma of some sort of Mexican entrée filled the air.
“Are the puppies here?” Sophie said eagerly. She tugged on Beth’s hand. “Can I see them?”
Walt laughed. “You bet. They can’t wait to see you, either.” He led the way through the living and dining rooms, then down a hallway leading to the kitchen and back door.
When he ushered them through the door to the screened porch, a litter of yellow-and-black lab pups tumbled out of their blanket-lined box.
Their mother, a gleaming black lab, lifted her head to check out the newcomers, then flopped back down, clearly exhausted by her rambunctious family.
Sophie squealed with delight when the pups swarmed around her, licking her fingers and crying to be picked up.
“The screen door is locked and ole Shadow is a good watchdog,” Walt said. “So your daughter should be okay, if you’d like to come inside for a drink?”
“Just tea or lemonade, if you’ve got it.” She inclined her head toward Sophie. “I think I’d better stay close by in case she gets overwhelmed.”
Walt called out to Maria, and she returned a few moments later with a tray of lemonade, tortilla chips and homemade salsa that she set on a glass-topped wicker table.
“Dinner will be in ten minutes.” She shot a questioning look at Walt. “Okay?”
Walt glanced at his watch. “Perfect timing.” He settled into one of the four white wicker chairs at the table and waved Beth toward the one across from him.
The chairs sported bright cushions that echoed the massive pots of red geraniums on the porch steps. Graceful ferns hung from the porch ceiling, and at one end, a long, low table was filled with colorful Mexican pottery bearing a variety of plants.
“This is so pretty. I hadn’t realized just how nice it would be to get away for an evening,” Beth said. “And Sophie is thrilled, as you can see.”
The puppies scrambled over each other, whining and vying for attention when Sophie sat down, though a couple toddled back to their nest.
Walt smiled. “We don’t have the pleasure of young folks here very often, and that’s the best part of having pups. What do you think, Sophie? Aren’t they fun?”
She ignored him, and Walt gave Beth a curious look.
“She can’t hear you,” Beth said quietly. “She’s facing the other way, and the puppies are noisy.”
“Bless her heart.” Walt’s voice was filled with compassion.
“She had partial hearing loss after an accident, but she’s slowly improving. She manages pretty well if someone speaks up, and does best when she can watch your lips and expression.”
“My brother Gerald was hard of hearing. Though for him, it was sort of selective,” Walt added with a twinkle in his eye. “The man never missed hearing an invitation to dinner.”
Walt’s gentle humor reminded her of her late grandfather, and for the first time in weeks, Beth felt herself relax. “I’m so glad you invited us over tonight.”
“How is Darwin working out for you?”
“He’s quite a mouser.” Beth shuddered. “I hate to tell you how successful he’s been, though I’d swear he never leaves the top of the refrigerator, and does nothing but sleep. He lined up his prizes on the floor by my bed this morning. So far, he’s massacred six.”
“He’s just showing off.” Walt took a sip of his iced tea, set it aside, then braced his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. “How’s everything else going?”
She felt her smile waver. “Fine. Working hard.”
He gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s expensive, doing everything up right. I imagine that house will need a lot of work. More than just a paintbrush and scrub bucket, at any rate.”
“True.” Disappointment flooded through her as she realized that this dinner invitation was probably nothing more than a sociable way to make a bottom-dollar offer on her place. One she couldn’t afford to accept, because she still had hopes that it would be worth a little more after she’d spruced it up.
“I have a little proposition for you.”
Here it comes. She sipped her lemonade. “What is it?”
The screen door to the house swung open, and Joel stepped out into the porch. His face registered surprise when his gaze landed on Beth. Surprise that quickly faded to a hint of exasperation. “Walt.”
“Did I forget to tell you about our other guests? You’ve met, I believe.”
Joel spared Beth a brief nod of acknowledgment, then pulled up a chair and sat at the table. “What’s this about a proposition?”
“I know what I’m doing,” the older man said mildly.
“I think we should talk a bit first, don’t you?” A muscle ticked on the side of Joel’s lean jaw.
He’d recently showered, and his dark hair was still damp and swept back. She’d caught the scents of soap and a faint touch of Stetson aftershave when he passed by, and in those khaki slacks, loafers and a black polo shirt that molded to his broad chest, he could have been some urban guy heading out for an evening in the city.
A dark and handsome one, at that—all lean, tanned angles and planes, and a flash of white, perfect teeth when he smiled. Which, come to think of it, he’d managed just once since she’d met him. There was a world-weary depth to his compelling, whiskey-brown eyes that suggested he’d seen the worst life had to offer and rarely found a reason to smile.
“I think this young lady would be a real asset,” Walt said. “And God knows things at the clinic are getting worse by the day.”
“The clinic?” She raised her hands in protest. Good grief—were they talking about hiring her? “Hey, I really don’t—”
“You’d have to fill out an application, of course.” Joel leaned back in his chair and angled his attention toward her. “With references. Do you have any work experience?”
“I—was catering manager at a hotel, until I had Sophie. And then I stayed at home.”
“Why did you move to Texas?”
