Texas Gun Smoke. Joanna Wayne
had a stroke a few months ago and he’s been slow to recover. He doesn’t always show up for dinner these days. And, of course, Juanita will be on the scene. She’s the cook.”
“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.”
“Not quite. My brother Langston’s wife Trish and their daughter Gina won’t be there. They live in Houston, and Gina’s usually buried in homework or busy with extracurricular activities on school nights.”
“How will I ever tell the players without a scorecard?”
“It’ll be easy. Langston’s the oldest brother, the businessman of the family. He’s president of Collingsworth Oil and he’ll probably come right from work, which means he’ll be the only brother not wearing jeans.”
“Don’t tell me he drives out here from Houston every night just to eat dinner.”
“No, we have some business to discuss.”
Probably concerning her. This was getting worse by the second. “What about the other brothers?”
“Matt’s the second oldest. If you look close, you can see a scar on the left temple where he got kicked by a bull during his brief fling in the rodeo world. He’s four years older than I am.”
“Which would make him?”
“Thirty-three.”
“So you haven’t yet reached the moldy age of thirty?”
“Not a speck of mold on my body.”
She had no doubt that was true, though she had no plans to inspect for proof. Physical intimacy with a man like Bart would be a shortcut to heartbreak. She’d run the risk of falling hard, and once he found out the truth about her past, he’d dump her as if she were a mad cow carrier.
“That leaves one more brother,” she said.
“Zach, the baby of the family along with my sister Jaime. They’re twins. Zach is a ladies’ man and a practical joker. Jaime’s the free spirit— Mother’s polite way of saying she’s never met a rule she couldn’t break.”
“I already like her best.”
“Somehow I knew you would. My sister Becky is separated from her husband Nick, a pro football player who everyone gets along with except Becky. She says they have issues. I think that means Nick prefers taking orders from his coach instead of from Becky, but I try not to get involved.”
“Good idea. Are Becky and Nick the parents of your two nephews?”
“Right. David and Derrick are twins, seven years old, mischievous and have boundless energy. Watch out for toads in your bed.”
“Thanks for the warning. And your mom?”
“Lenora Collingsworth. She’s fifty-six and runs circles around all of us. When Jeremiah had his stroke, he shocked us all by having papers drawn up that turned the position of CEO of Collingsworth Enterprises over to her at any point he couldn’t fulfill the required duties.
“The only paying job she’d ever had before was as a waitress before she got married. But she’s amazed us all with her tenacity and ability, though she drives Langston a little nuts with her reforms for the oil company. Collingsworth Enterprises includes ranch operations, but she hasn’t gotten to telling us how to run Jack’s Bluff yet.”
“Collingsworth Oil, Collingsworth Enterprises, Jack’s Bluff Ranch. You sound like the Ewings of Southfork.”
“More scruples and a lot fewer sexual escapades.”
And in spite of the wealth, Bart still appeared to be just an easygoing cowboy with no hidden agenda. But that didn’t mean the same would be true of the rest of his family. Lenora especially worried her. A woman astute enough to step into the role of CEO without prior executive experience would surely see through Jaclyn. She’d know instinctively that Jaclyn was bad news for her son. She’d be right.
Bart pulled into the drive behind a row of pickups, a Porsche, a BMW, a silver Mercedes and a Harley. But it was the sprawling house, not the impressive vehicles, that claimed her attention. It wasn’t elaborate. There were no ostentatious columns or intricate masonry. There were only gables and porches and huge oak trees embracing the structure. It was homey and welcoming—at least that was the illusion it created.
She was hit with a paralyzing attack of nerves. “I can’t do this, Bart.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Intrude on your family.”
“You’re not intruding, you’re an invited guest.”
“But they don’t know me. For that matter, neither do you.”
“We’re feeding you, not adopting you. Just relax.”
One of his brothers walked out the back door and waved. Bart waved back. She gritted her teeth, climbed reluctantly from the car and followed Bart to the house.
“SHE’S WOW MATERIAL,” Zach said. “Not sure you can handle a sweet, young hottie like that, big brother, even if she is the size of a good bottle of tequila.”
Bart poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I told you—she’s married to a serviceman. I have no plans to ‘handle’ her. I’m just going to drive her back to New Orleans and see if her friend’s disappearance checks out to be as suspicious as she fears.”
“And if it is?” Matt asked.
“Then I’ll see what I can do to help her find out what happened to the missing woman.”
Zach opened the refrigerator and pulled out a half-gallon container of milk. “Politicians being what they are today, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if Hebert is involved in her disappearance.”
“Whether he is or not, I suspect he’s anxious to keep his affair away from public scrutiny,” Langston said. “But he’s going pretty far if he’s the one guilty of running—or having Jaclyn run—off the road last night.”
“Desperate situations call for desperate measures,” Bart countered. “And if he’s guilty of foul play, the guy is not only desperate and immoral but also depraved.”
“Which would put Jaclyn in serious danger,” Langston admitted.
Bart had especially requested Langston’s presence at the informal after-dinner confab. Langston wasn’t as negative as Matt or as impulsive as Zach and he was used to dealing with difficult situations and political confrontations in the business world.
“So what do you suggest, Langston?”
“I’d say the first step is to hire a good private investigator. I put Clay Markham on retainer for Collingsworth Oil a couple of months ago, so you’re welcome to use him. He’s as good as they come. I’d suggest having a background check done on Jaclyn, as well. She seems nice, but appearances can be deceiving. And then I’d make a personal visit to the Louisiana senator who’s suspected of foul play.”
Zach cut himself a slice of chocolate cake to go with his milk, scattering crumbs as he took it from the cake plate to a napkin. “Foul play? You sound like a politician yourself. Just say it like it is. There’s a good chance Margo was murdered. Then you can get down to the nitty-gritty of finding out who, why and where.”
Bart shook his head. “Don’t let Jaclyn hear you say that. She’s still hoping for the best.”
Matt rocked back on the heels of his boots, his face grim. “Did it ever occur to you that this Margo woman could have blackmailed the senator, then taken off with the money? The way I see it, that’s the most likely scenario. If it were me, I’d buy Jaclyn a plane ticket home, maybe even offer to pay for a private detective for her since you said her husband’s off fighting for our country. Then I’d ride off into the sunset like a smart cowboy.”
“I’ll