Hotshot P.i.

“That might be a bigger job than you think,” she said cryptically. “And I suppose you want me to believe you’re doing this for my own good, right?”

He held open the door to the ladies’ room for her. “How can you doubt it?”

She shot him a drop-dead look.

“The truth, Jones, will set you free,” he said, and smiled.

“Or send me to prison for life,” She took only a quick glance into the rest room before she added, “I think you’re right. I’m fresh enough.”

As he let the door close, Clancy took his arm and smiled up at him as if he’d actually done something that pleased her. One side of her mouth crooked up a little, her brown eyes glinted with mischief, and just the hint of a dimple dented her left cheek at the corner of her lips. Jake had forgotten her smile could pack such a wallop. It hit him in the chest, taking away his breath and knocking him off guard.

He stumbled. Her smile deepened; humor glinted in her gaze. If he’d had any doubt before, he didn’t now. She knew damned well the effect she was having on him, and she loved it. This was war. And for a moment, he wished there was another way, other than all-out war, to settle things between them.

He stared at her, wishing he could find the answers he needed in that face of hers. If only he could look into those brown eyes and know everything he wanted to about her. Like why she’d lied about his father. If she’d killed her boyfriend. Where she’d been going this morning in such a hurry. Why she’d betrayed him.

Instead, all he got were more questions from that adorable face of hers. And more suspicions.

She brushed against him as she stepped past, the silkiness of her skin sparking responses in him he didn’t want to be feeling. Her scent filled him, branding his senses. He watched the provocative sway of her hips as she walked away from him. He assured himself he could handle this woman, that it would be a pleasure giving her some of her own medicine.

But that little voice of reason that kept him honest suggested the best thing he could do would be to get this case over with, pry the truth out of Clancy and head back to Texas lickety-split.

He swore softly to himself as he opened the door to the office with the sign that read Attorney Tadd Farnsworth, and watched Clancy waltz through, her bottom filling out her jeans in a way that should have been against the law. Clancy played him like a cheap guitar, but made him feel like he was a fine Gibson. Jake promised himself he’d have her dancing to his tune—and soon.

Chapter Four

“Jake? Jake Hawkins?” the handsome, prematurely grayhaired man said, coming around his large desk. “I didn’t know you were back in town.” Tadd Farnsworth’s smile was as quick as his handshake and just as slick.

“1 didn’t know I had to check in at the border,” Jake said, taking the attorney’s outstretched hand.

“And Clancy,” Tadd said.

Jake thought Tadd held her hand a little too long, his look a little too sympathetic and seductive.

Jake told himself he would have liked Tadd Farnsworth if the man hadn’t been the prosecuting attorney who sent his father to prison. But he knew that wasn’t true. At one time Tadd had been a regular at the island resort, always sporting a fast new boat, always a hit at the parties Jake’s mother threw at the lake lodge. Jake remembered only too well how taken his mother had been with Tadd. That was plenty reason to make Jake dislike the man.

Seeing the way Clancy smiled at Tadd, Jake could see that even ten years older, Tadd still had a way with women. He decided he liked him even less.

“I was sorry about your mother, Jake” Tadd said as he returned to his chair behind his desk. “I heard she passed away a few months ago. My condolences.”

“Oh, Jake,” Clancy said. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Jake nodded and took a chair beside Clancy. He didn’t want to talk about his mother. Especially with Tadd. Nor did he want to talk about his father. He pulled his business card from his wallet and tossed it on the desk. “I’m here on the Dex Westfall case.”

Tadd picked up the card. His eyes widened. “I’d heard Kiki had brought in some hotshot private eye.” He laughed. “I’ll be damned. So you’re a P.I.” He shook his head. “Interesting, her choice of investigators, wouldn’t you say?”

No kidding. “I’d like to see what evidence you’ve got so far.”

Tadd nodded. “Sure you wouldn’t like some coffee? Or maybe a stiff drink?” His smile slipped a little as he looked from Jake to Clancy and back. “You’re not going to like this case.”

“There isn’t much about it I’ve liked so far,” Jake said. Clancy mumbled something under her breath and looked at her watch.

“Don’t worry. This won’t take long,” Jake assured her.

“Do I look worried?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence.

The attorney excused himself and returned a few minutes later with a large manila envelope. He placed it on the desk in front of Jake and returned to his seat without saying a word.

Jake opened the flap, pulled out a stack of papers and flipped through them. He let out an oath without even realizing it.

“Told you you weren’t going to like it,” Tadd said.

The case against Clancy was overwhelming.

“I think I will take that coffee,” Jake said to Tadd.

Jake sat stunned as Tadd buzzed his secretary. It had been one thing telling himself the woman who betrayed him was a killer. It was quite another to realize it might actually be true.

“Why didn’t the sheriff just hang her on the spot?” Jake asked Tadd after he took a sip of the coffee the attorney handed him, happily discovering it to be heavily laced with bourbon.

“Would have a hundred years ago. If she’d been a man.” Tadd chuckled. “Instead, she’s a woman. And a Talbott to boot.” He shot Clancy a smile to say he was just kidding, but with one look from her, it died on his lips.

Jake wondered if she realized that she’d be cooling her heels in a cell right now if it wasn’t for Aunt Kiki’s money and the illustrious Talbott name. Not to mention what Kiki must be paying Tadd. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if Kiki wasn’t also making a large donation to the Tadd Farnsworth for County Attorney campaign for added incentive.

Jake thumbed through the rest of the evidence, including a list of Dex Westfall’s belongings from the murder scene: a bloody western snap-front shirt, a pair of jeans and red cowboy boots. No socks. No underwear. Jake raised an eyebrow. Had Dex gotten dressed in a hurry for some reason? Or was that his usual attire? Jake made a mental note to ask Clancy.

There was also a list of items found at the cabin Dex had rented at the Hawk Island Resort, including Dex’s wallet, watch, keys and some loose change.

“He didn’t have his wallet or keys on him the night of his murder?” Jake asked Tadd, suspecting even more that for some reason Dex Westfall had dressed in a hurry.

“I guess he didn’t need them,” Tadd said. “No place to spend money and he sure couldn’t drive anywhere. He probably took one of the island trails to Ms. Jones’s.”

“You don’t know how he got there?” Jake asked, surprised.

“Does it matter?” Tadd said. “He got there. We know that.”

Everything mattered, Jake thought. What Dex hadn’t done was drive. There were no cars or roads on Hawk Island. That left two other options: he could go by boat around the island to Clancy’s. Or he could take one of the many mountain trails. Because the sheriff hadn’t found a boat at the scene didn’t mean Dex hadn’t had someone drop him off. And that meant maybe he’d planned to have that same someone pick him up again.

Dex was last seen with Clancy after the resort café closed on Friday night. That meant there wouldn’t have been any place on the island for Dex to spend money. But Jake still thought it odd Dex hadn’t taken his wallet. Most guys would grab their wallet, keys and watch out of habit. Some things you just felt naked without. Like underwear.

The wallet, according to the report, contained less than thirty dollars. He glanced through the photocopy of the items—a Montana driver’s license, a few credit cards. Jake frowned. No photographs. Not even one of Clancy, the guy’s girlfriend. No family photos. No receipts or junk like most people carried in their wallets. No mementos.

Dex Westfall’s belongings reminded Jake of a new subdivision. No feeling of history. Everything of Dex’s had been marked on the sheriff’s list as in new condition. Jake found himself wondering just who the hell this guy was and what Clancy had seen in him as he glanced at Westfall’s driver’s license photo again. The guy was almost too good-looking. Jake had never figured Clancy for that type, but then, he reminded himself, he didn’t know Clancy anymore. He looked over at her. For instance, what was she thinking about right now? He realized how little he knew about her. It worried him. A lot.

Taking out his notebook, Jake jotted down Dex’s social security number and address from his driver’s license, and took down the credit card numbers. He put everything back in the envelope and looked up at Tadd.

“What do you know about this guy?” Jake asked.

Tadd shrugged. “No more than what’s here, and we won’t know until his next of kin are notified.” Jake noted Clancy’s sudden rapt attention and wondered why this subject would interest her when nothing else about her case had.