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“Good point. You aren’t exactly a bustling metropolis out there, are you?”
“We like it that way.”
“Uh-huh. Guess that means coming back to work for me again is out of the question, huh?”
For one tiny second, Noah hesitated before rejecting the offer. Once Lauren was happily married, his initial reason for leaving Dallas was gone. He’d loved the undercover work he’d done for the Dallas P.D. On the other hand, he was older now. Old enough to know it was a young man’s game.
“Thanks anyhow, Zach.”
“Just remember, the offer stands anytime you want. How’s your daughter doing? I hear she’s engaged.”
Noah smiled. “She picked herself a nice guy. He’s about to graduate from veterinary school.”
“Isn’t that what Lauren is studying?”
“Yeah. She intends to go into partnership with him. They’ve already talked to the vet over in Trueblood about buying into his practice in a couple of years. He’s getting ready to retire.”
“That’s terrific. So Lauren’s away at school right now?”
“No, actually, she’s doing this semester via some new computer courses. She’s determined to save money before the wedding and this lets her work part-time as a veterinary assistant for our vet here in Bitterwater.”
“Independent as ever, huh?”
Noah’s grin widened. “That’s Lauren.”
“Still bringing home strays?”
“Afraid so.” He eyed the three dogs and one battered old cat sprawled on the kitchen floor. Each one had been a rescue that had ended up costing him a fortune in vet bills. Lauren was always bringing home strays of one sort or another. Long ago, he’d accepted the defeat of that particular battle.
Zach chuckled. “Glad to hear she’s doing so well. Just to be on the safe side, you should probably warn her to be careful. Listen, Noah, there was another reason I called.”
“Figured as much.”
“Could I use your office to set up a meeting? We’ve got an undercover operation that I don’t want to see compromised. I figure you’re far enough from anywhere that we can make sure no one sees the meet.”
Noah ran a knuckle across his jaw, remembering what had happened the last time he’d gotten involved in one of Zach’s operations. His deputy had been a year from retirement when a pair of thugs from a baby ring ran him down. It hadn’t been Zach’s fault, but Noah still felt the loss.
“I guess I can arrange that.”
“Good. I’ll let you know the particulars as soon as I do.”
“All right.” The dogs suddenly scrambled to their feet and dashed down the hall. Lauren was home. “I’ve gotta run before I burn dinner, but thanks for the call. It was good to talk with you again.”
Joyous barks greeted the arrival of his daughter. Noah smiled in satisfaction as he hung up. He grabbed the salad from the refrigerator and set it on the table, then he pulled out the colander. The clicking of paws preceded his daughter into the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad! Dinner smells great. I’m starving.”
The animals collapsed in a boneless pile inside the door, watching Lauren with canine adoration as she gave him a quick hug and headed for the stove to check on the garlic bread he had warming.
“Yum.”
“Go wash up. Dinner in five.”
When Lauren returned from the bathroom, they fell into their usual dinnertime routine. The dogs waited hopefully for something to fall in their direction, but were quickly distracted by their own food bowls so he and Lauren could eat in peace. The cat disappeared with a haughty flick of her tail. As he ate, Noah listened to Lauren describe her day with her usual cheerful enthusiasm.
“Oh, and Doug’s coming to spend this weekend if that’s okay, Dad.”
“Anytime.” He swallowed a mouthful of pasta and regarded his daughter. “He’s not going to drive, is he?”
“No. He’s flying into San Antonio and renting a car.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “Pretty expensive for a weekend.”
“I know, but he can afford it. And he says I’m worth it.”
He shared her grin. “He’s right. Listen, there’s something we need to discuss. You know that snub-nosed .38 I gave you?”
Her eyes went from blue to gray as she studied him seriously. “Uh-huh.”
“Start carrying it for a while.”
“Uh-oh. What’s happened?”
His daughter never failed to amaze him. He thanked God every day for the miracle of Lauren. If only Beth had lived to see what a strong, beautiful, levelheaded woman they had raised. He took a bite of salad, chewed, swallowed past the lump in his throat and proceeded to explain about Francis Hartman.
“Okay, Dad, I’ll stay alert.”
“The odds of Hartman actually coming here are pretty small,” he assured her. “If he holds to his usual routine, he’ll be back in jail in a matter of days.”
For Noah and Lauren the following day was life as normal with some heightened caution and awareness. In the afternoon, Noah spent several frustrating hours trying to track down an oil leak in his truck before he gave up and drove into town. He groaned at the sight of Alma Underwood pumping gas into her sports utility, but there was no avoiding the woman unless he drove all the way over to Bitterwater. He brought his truck to a halt and looked around for Marvin Gates. Old Man Lacy had the hapless mechanic cornered inside the garage, garrulously complaining about something under the hood of his ancient pickup.
“Noah! I was just heading home to give you a call,” Alma said. “You have to do something.”
Too late to hide, he thought ruefully, and strode over to Alma. “Afternoon, Alma. What do I have to do something about? I’m not even on duty right now.”
She finished filling her gas tank and began screwing the cap back in place while Noah rested a foot against her front fender.
“Ha! You’re the county sheriff, you’re always on duty. Besides, you know young Terry’s still wet behind the ears. This woman would chew him into little pieces.”
The idea of anyone chewing his six-foot-three inch, 220-pound muscled deputy into little pieces made Noah smile. Terry Gooding might be young and inexperienced, but he wasn’t stupid or Noah wouldn’t have hired him.
“What woman, Alma?”
“The one over in my café. She’s been hanging around Darwin Crossing for two days now. She doesn’t belong here.” Alma’s seamed face creased even further.
“Where does she belong, Alma?” Over her shoulder, Noah saw that rescue wasn’t imminent. Marvin was still busy.
The older woman sniffed. “City woman. Now, I ask you, what business could she possibly have here in Darwin Crossing? As the sheriff, you should talk to her. Find out what she’s up to.”
He tried to keep amusement out of his voice as he tipped back the brim of his Stetson and tilted his head.
“You mean you haven’t pumped her for information already?” There was no better source of information in town than Alma Underwood. The woman lived for gossip.
“Humph. Not that one. You can’t pump her with a twelve-gauge. She’s real cool-like. Cuts you dead with a look. Good-lookin’ broad, I’ll give her that, but only if you like the snooty type. She comes into my place and just sits there watching.”
“Sitting’s not illegal, Alma. Neither is watching. And you do own the only café in town.”
The older woman scowled. “She doesn’t come there to eat. She orders perfectly good food and then sits there playing with it while she looks out the window or scribbles away on this pad she carries.”
Alma took her food seriously. Noah kept his grin inside and glanced over at his pickup to be sure it wasn’t blocking anyone. Marvin was still occupied.
“I guess city women are picky eaters, but I’m afraid that isn’t illegal, either.”
Alma set her jaw and eyed him from beneath thick round glasses. “Okay, I didn’t want to say this right out, Noah, but if you’re gonna take that attitude, now I will. She seems to be watchin’ your Lauren.”
“What?”
Amusement vanished at the mention of his daughter’s name. Noah came away from the fender of her SUV. Tension took a two-fisted grip on the base of his stomach.
For an instant, he thought about Francis Hartman, then discarded the idea of a connection. But a much older fear reared its ugly head.
“Thought that might get your attention.”
Beth had laughed at him, told him his worry was foolish. But while she was a cop’s wife, she didn’t see and hear all the things he did. From the day they adopted Lauren, he’d always secretly feared that one day Lauren’s birth mother would come and try to take their little girl away.
“Are you sure about this, Alma?”
“Course I’m sure.”
Who would be watching his daughter?
“A woman,” he said almost to himself. The adoption had been perfectly legal and nearly twenty years ago. Still, Beth’s death had strengthened the fear. What if Lauren’s biological parents learned that Beth was dead? What if they decided they’d made a terrible mistake? He’d never understood how anyone could give up a precious baby like Lauren in the first place. His fear had not abated after Beth’s funeral. It had even played a small role in his moving out here in the middle of nowhere after he found himself a widower. Strangers were always noticed here in Darwin Crossing.
“Course she’s a woman, didn’t I say as much?”
“Who is she?” he demanded.
“That’s what you need to find out,” Alma said, sounding exasperated. “The woman has a file in that briefcase she carries around and your Lauren’s name is scrawled on the face of it.”
The tension building inside him coiled itself into a tight knot.
Alma bobbed her head as if she knew the impact her words were having. “If someone is checking on your daughter, maybe it’s time to make sitting and watching illegal here in Darwin Crossing.”
“Where is this woman now?”
“In my café,” Alma said with satisfaction.
Noah battled his spreading tension.
“You know, it occurred to me to wonder if that high-society boyfriend of your daughter’s might have gone and hired himself a fancy private investigator to keep an eye on his fiancée,” she added.
Alma’s suggestion stopped him cold, changing the direction of Noah’s thoughts. Douglas Rossiter came from a wealthy background. In fact, the Rossiter family was well-known amid the Dallas elite. While Doug didn’t strike him as the jealous type, it was barely possible that he was having some sort of check run on Lauren. Lauren had just returned from a visit with the Rossiter family, relating amusing tales about their lifestyle, which was so different from her own. Did they think she hadn’t fit in?
“You can’t trust them society people,” Alma insisted. “They’re always lookin’ down on hardworking folk like us. I told you it was a bad idea to let your Lauren marry outside her class.”
Noah brushed that aside, but he couldn’t dismiss the assumption that this new stranger was a private investigator. It was within the realm of possibility that someone in the Rossiter family was checking on Lauren. That made more sense than a relative suddenly trying to make contact after all these years.
The investigator would find absolutely nothing, of course, but the idea of the whole thing made Noah angry. If this woman started probing around in Lauren’s background, she could stir her unknown birth mother into taking some sort of action. After all, Lauren was marrying into a wealthy family.
“I called Terry,” Alma continued, “but he says he can’t do anything unless she breaks the law.”
True enough. “I’ll go over and have a talk with the woman.”
Alma’s eyes lit victoriously.
“You do that,” she called to his retreating back. “That woman’s up to no good.”
Noah waved to Marvin as he left his truck where he’d parked it and started down the street. The mechanic could look for the oil leak later. Noah strolled toward the café with deceptive speed. The stranger’s sleek silver luxury car was parked out in front, looking mildly intimidated by the much larger vehicles that surrounded it. A rental out of San Antonio, Noah noted.
His stomach tightened another notch as he realized where he’d seen the car before. Yesterday, it had been parked in Bitterwater not far from the vet’s office where Lauren was working.
Noah hadn’t paid the car any attention when he’d driven past, other than to note how out of place it looked. He hadn’t seen anyone inside and assumed the driver was with the vet. Now the tension inside him began to unfurl. Thank God for Alma’s warning.
While he doubted a private investigator would spring for an expensive luxury car to drive around in, one never knew. As soon as he was close enough, he made a mental note of the plate number. Then he walked up beside the car and peered inside.
“May I help you with something?”
Her sultry voice did a slow crawl up his spine. He lifted his head and drank in the view of the woman standing behind him. She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. There was no mistaking her for a resident even if he hadn’t known everyone by name in a hundred-mile radius. The woman looked more out of place than her car. Five-seven, he’d estimate, slender, but not without some nicely placed curves. Grace Kelly came to mind with those cheekbones and that glowing skin. The woman’s hair was cut to her chin in a style that looked expensively chic, yet artfully simple. The style suited her.
“Just looking,” he told her as he adjusted the brim of his hat and watched in puzzlement as her body seemed to tighten in recognition. He’d swear she was a total stranger, yet her body language said otherwise.
The shaft of unexpected and unwanted desire caught him unprepared. He wondered if she felt the pull of this sudden chemistry, as well. Dressed in a navy pantsuit that fit as if it had been designed just for her, she managed to look completely feminine, yet at the same time conveyed a sense of professionalism. His gaze was drawn to the V of her open-necked, white silk shirt, which stopped just short of the nicely rounded curves of her breasts.
“Like it?” she asked coolly.
Her voice was soft velvet wrapped around spikes of steel. The voice made him think of other soft things he’d like to wrap around steel. Uncomfortably embarrassed to be caught staring, he tried for a smile. “What’s not to like?”
Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I meant the car.”
He tipped his head to one side and let his smile widen. “So did I.”
For a moment, she seemed disconcerted, but her cool mask quickly settled back into place. No wonder Alma didn’t like her. Few women would. And most men would feel intimidated—the ones who didn’t see her as prey. He had to rein in a pretty strong predatory feeling of his own. The woman was class, yet she gave off an aura of sensuality that reached inside him and grabbed him where he lived. And all with no effort on her part.
Behind the dark lenses of her glasses, he sensed her assessing his faded work jeans, matching jacket, boots and plaid shirt. Fingering the brim of his hat, Noah figured he failed her fashion test hands-down. He’d spent the past few hours under the hood of his truck. Fashion hadn’t come into his choice of clothing, and it didn’t worry him now.
“We don’t see many cars like this one around here,” he said.
Her head inclined toward the line of pickup trucks dwarfing the car. “I’ve noticed.”
