The Bodyguard's Return. Carla Cassidy
knew all about feeling alone, although in the year and a half he’d spent in New York City, he’d rarely been alone.
He’d worked hard and had played even harder. He’d thrown himself into the Manhattan single lifestyle, serial-dating sharp, beautiful women with fascinating careers. But in spite of all that he’d never shaken a core sense of homesickness that had eaten at him day and night.
Failure. A little voice whispered in his head. He’d struck out on his own, determined to make a life separate from his family. He’d wanted to be his own man, but in the end he’d run back home like a wounded puppy.
Although he had been successful as a stockbroker, the shambles of his personal life had finally forced him to get out of town and head back to Cotter Creek.
His father, Red West, had just assumed Joshua would step back into the family business and work for Wild West Protection Services as a bodyguard, but Joshua had told his dad he was taking a little time off to decide what he wanted to do. Going to work for the family business felt like yet another failure.
He shoved these thoughts aside as he approached the tent, the scent of too-sweet flowers cloying in the air. Charlie had left a will with an account set up for his funeral. He’d wanted only a gravesite service and to be buried beside his beloved wife, Rebecca. Together in life, now together again in death.
As he entered the white structure, he stiffened at the sight of Savannah Clarion. She stood next to Winnie Halifax, Savannah’s hair sparkling and appearing even more red against the black of her longsleeved blouse and black slacks.
He nodded to the preacher, then took up a position on the opposite side of the casket from Savannah, who had been an irritating pain in his ass over the past three days.
She’d left a message at the house every day, requesting that he call her back, but the last thing Joshua wanted was to get mixed up in any drama. He’d had enough of that before he’d left New York.
Within a few minutes others began to arrive. His sister, Meredith appeared with his dad and Smokey. Meredith hurried to Savannah’s side, while his father and Smokey joined him.
Raymond Buchannan, the owner of the Cotter Creek newspaper, arrived, looking old and tired. Joshua realized the man must be close to eighty and wondered if he ever intended to retire.
Mayor Aaron Sharp also arrived, shaking everyone’s hands as if he were at a political campaign instead of a funeral.
Finally the service began. As Reverend Baxter talked about life and death and redemption, Joshua found himself looking again and again at Savannah.
He hadn’t thought her particularly pretty the day he’d seen her at Charlie’s house, but there was something in her irregular features that was arresting.
The dark red curls suited her, complemented by her eyes, which were a mix of gold and copper. She had a killer figure, slender hips and long legs and was unusually busty for a slim woman.
Over the past three days Meredith had made it her job to extol the virtues of her friend to him. Witty and smart. Fun-loving and soft-hearted. Tenacious and outspoken. He’d heard more about Savannah Clarion than he’d ever wanted to know.
He had a feeling his sister was attempting to indulge in a little matchmaking, but Meredith didn’t realize the last thing Joshua wanted in his life was any kind of a relationship with a woman.
Unlike his brothers, who seemed to have a knack when it came to the opposite sex, Joshua had failed miserably in that respect as well.
Grief for Charlie shoved every other thought out of his head. The old man had been a special friend to Joshua before he’d left Cotter Creek, and Joshua would miss him.
He was grateful when the service ended. He didn’t hang around to make nice with the other funeral attendees, but rather slipped out of the tent the minute the service was complete.
Instead of walking to where his car was parked, he followed the path to another area of the cemetery, the place where his mother was buried.
The entire right corner of the cemetery contained the West plots. His mother was buried beneath a grand red maple tree whose leaves were just beginning to turn scarlet with autumn grandeur.
He stood before her headstone. Elizabeth West, beloved wife, beloved mother. Joshua had never known her. He’d been a baby when she’d gone to the grocery store one evening and later had been found dead beside her car on the side of the road. She’d been strangled, and her murderer had never been found.
Sometimes Joshua wondered what his life would have been like if he’d had a mother, if he’d been raised by a woman instead of by his father and the cantankerous Smokey, who had run the house like an army barrack.
He’d heard stories about his mother, a beautiful woman who had given up an acting career to marry his father and build a family here in Cotter Creek. But he knew her only from photos and didn’t have a single memory of his own.
“Meredith told me about your mother’s death.”
Joshua stiffened at the sound of Savannah’s voice. The woman was as tenacious as an Oklahoma tick on the back of a hound dog. He turned around to look at her, noting how the sunshine sparked in her hair. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to listen to me, that’s all. Just hear me out with an open mind. Did you know that Charlie went grocery shopping an hour before his death? Did you know that he bought a gallon of butter pecan ice cream? Why does a man who is suicidal buy groceries that nobody will eat?”
She talked fast, as if afraid she wouldn’t get everything out before he walked away from her. “Joshua, Charlie knew I was coming to interview him. He would have never killed himself knowing that I was expected to be there, that I would be the one to find him like that. Charlie would have never done that to me.”
As much as Joshua didn’t want to get caught up in what he’d considered her drama, her words gave him pause. “Maybe he went shopping then got depressed. Maybe he wasn’t suicidal until five minutes before he picked up his gun.”
She shook her head, red curls bouncing. “At least three times a week I spent the evenings with Charlie. I’m telling you the man wasn’t depressed. He wasn’t suicidal. He had plans, big plans. He was going to plant a flower garden next spring, fill it with all the flowers his wife had loved. He was thinking about taking lessons to learn how to play bridge.”
Joshua wished he had touched base with Charlie more often while he’d been in New York. He’d called every couple of weeks, but the calls had been brief, too brief.
“It’s not just Charlie,” Savannah continued. “There have been others deaths…too many.”
He suddenly remembered her parting words to Ramsey the day of Charlie’s death, that something was rotten in Cotter Creek and she intended to get to the bottom of it. “What deaths? What are you talking about?”
She glanced around, then looked back at him. “It’s too complicated to go over all of it now.”
“Why me? Why are you coming to me with all this?”
She frowned, the gesture wrinkling her freckled nose with charming appeal. “For two reasons. First of all you’ve been out of town for a while. I figure you’ll be more objective about things than any of the other locals. Secondly, you’re a West and that holds a lot of weight in this area of the country.”
“Meredith is a West, why not enlist her help?” he countered. He tried not to notice her scent, a spicy musk that was intensely pleasant.
“I told you the other day that Sheriff Ramsey was lazy and incompetent. The man is also a raging sexist. He wouldn’t pay any more attention to Meredith than he has to me.”
Despite his reluctance to the contrary, he was intrigued. “Okay, I’m listening,” he said.
She glanced over her shoulder to where Winnie stood in the distance, obviously waiting