Stonebrook Cottage. Carla Neggers
his heels, eyeing Kara. Something wasn’t adding up, but she was an experienced attorney, accustomed to not tipping her hand to the other side. And somehow, he’d become the other side. He’d felt it the second she opened the door. “The Austin police are checking with the airport, taxis, buses. The kids told the shuttle driver they were meeting their mother. They claimed to see her and took off. He didn’t realize anything was wrong until he got back to the ranch.”
“Allyson knows? Someone called her?”
“The people at the ranch. Jack talked to her brother-in-law, Hatch Corrigan. He’s some kind of adviser?”
Kara nodded, her dark eyes distant, unreadable. “He must be having fits. I can’t imagine what’s gotten into Henry and Lillian—” She sighed, breaking off. “What’s your involvement? Austin isn’t your jurisdiction.”
“Wrong. All of Texas is my jurisdiction.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant you’re stationed in San Antonio—” She stopped herself, squaring her shoulders as she eyed him coolly. “Sam, is this an official visit?”
“Do you mean if you lie to me can I arrest you?” He took a step toward her, aware he was even more intense than usual. She drew back, as if a little shocked at his closeness, but he didn’t ease off. “You opened your door loaded for bear. Why?”
“For God’s sake, Sam, it’s the middle of the night.”
“You knew it wasn’t an intruder. Your door has glass panels. You saw me.”
She took a breath, the light from behind her casting shadows over her face. He saw her intensity, her determination, and knew she had no intention of easing off, either. “Okay. I didn’t want you to think I open my door to near strangers unprotected.”
As if he was a near stranger and a vase would have protected her. Sam decided not to push his point. “Why didn’t you tell me about Governor Parisi’s death?”
His question seemed to catch her off guard. He saw her swallow, remembered kissing her smooth throat. She averted her eyes. “I couldn’t get the words out. It was as if saying it out loud would have made it real.”
“Kara, we were together for a long time.”
Her dark eyes lifted to him, met him dead-on. “I know what you must think. It was a weird weekend. Let’s just forget it.”
“I don’t regret what happened between us.”
“Neither do I.” She took a breath, dropping her hand from the door. “Look, it’s late, and I’m worried about Henry and Lillian—”
“I smell popcorn.”
“What? Oh—oh, yeah. I didn’t have any dinner.”
Sam leaned toward her, making no secret that he was trying to peer into her living room. “You’re not going to invite me in?”
“Not without a warrant, Sergeant Temple.” She smiled, but there was no mistaking her seriousness of purpose. He wasn’t getting past her. She had her vase, and she had the law.
“Kara, if you have something to tell me, get it out on the table. Now.”
No impact. “It’s been a long day,” she said smoothly. “We’re both worried about Henry and Lillian. So, let’s not do this. You turn around and go do your Texas Ranger thing, and I’ll let you know if I need you.”
He had to remember she was a respected attorney. If she was afraid or troubled, she could handle it. She knew where to turn for help.
She also knew how to skirt the truth with him if it suited her. She’d come right up to the line—if not cross it.
Sam placed one foot on the threshold and narrowed his eyes on her. He saw her lips part and knew she was thinking he might kiss her. He was tired enough that it seemed a natural thing to do, kissing Kara Galway in the doorway of her little house, never mind that she was trying to get rid of him—hiding something from him.
Instead, he tapped her chin with one finger. “I wouldn’t cross me if I were you.”
She shrugged, unintimidated. “Fine. I won’t cross you.”
“If you know anything about the Stockwell kids—”
“It’s a family matter, Sam, not a law enforcement matter. It’s sure as hell not a matter for the Texas Rangers. You’re supposed to assist in major criminal investigations. This isn’t one.”
“Are you sure you never told anyone Mike Parisi couldn’t swim?”
“Go away, Sam. I’m tired.”
“When did you find out? Did he tell you for a specific reason or did he just let it slip? What was he to you? What was he to your godchildren?”
He didn’t expect her to answer his questions. He was simply demonstrating how having the runaway kids of the new governor of Connecticut on the loose in Texas was his business if he decided it was.
Not that it had any effect on her. “Give it up, Sergeant Temple. Mike’s death and Henry and Lillian skipping out of summer camp are at most only peripherally related.”
He stepped back onto the porch, the hot night air mingling with the cool air coming from her house. He remembered her soft, white sheets, one of Eva Dunning’s hand sewn quilts hanging on the wall above her bed. Kara, Kara. What had he done?
He pressed two fingers to his lips, then touched them to hers. “I went too fast with you. I’m sorry.”
“Sam—”
But he straightened, removing any hint of softness from his expression. “If those kids don’t turn up at the airport, I’ll be back.” He started down the porch steps, his back to her as he added, “You can make more popcorn.”
Kara locked her front door behind her and stood in the foyer, her head pounding. A suspicious Texas Ranger was just what she needed. Now what? Sam or the Austin police would find the cabdriver who’d taken Henry and Lillian to Hyde Park. Two rich kids on their own—the driver would remember them.
The effects of her long day ate at her nerves, threw her off her normal manner of doing things. She wasn’t one to panic. When she was nine years old, she’d had to sit motionless next to her dying mother while they waited for the paramedics. Ranger Temple wasn’t getting under her skin. She wouldn’t let it happen.
Except it already had. Her reaction to him on her doorstep had been instantaneous and overpowering, a mix of attraction and desire, frustration, a touch of embarrassment, even fear, although not for herself. Having a tight-lipped Texas Ranger at her house gave weight to what Henry and Lillian had done in running off from the dude ranch, what their lives had become now that Big Mike was gone and their mother was governor.
Tell no one…I’m trusting you with my children…
Kara shook off the words in the letter. Replaying them in her head would get her nowhere, and it was her own damn fault she had Sam on her case. She’d given his name to Zoe West in Connecticut, figuring it couldn’t hurt to have a Texas Ranger vouching for her whereabouts. She hadn’t expected the Bluefield detective to go to the trouble of checking out her story and actually calling him.
Then, after Allyson had told her about Henry and Lillian, Kara immediately drove to San Antonio in a panic. It wasn’t just to see her brother and Susanna and get their moral support. She’d half hoped Sam would be there.
She’d more than half hoped.
She pulled out sheets in the hall linen closet, figuring she might as well make up the couch and at least get some sleep before she had to deal with Sam. Or should she wake up the kids and clear out before he got back here? She couldn’t think straight. She started back to the living room with her armload of sheets.
“Aunt Kara!”