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C.J. Miller – Colton's Texas Stakeout (страница 9)

18

Jesse had noticed his mare’s change in behavior, too. She was lethargic and tired too often. He’d tried changing her diet, but it hadn’t helped. “Thanks. Let me know what the doc has to say.” When he knew what was wrong and could fix it, he would stop worrying.

Jesse had given Grace alternative assignments, but she still looked tired. She hadn’t complained, but he had another idea. “I’m planning to hire someone to help me around the house. It’s getting to be too much. I’ve been working on the remodel of the carriage house, and it’s taking a lot of my time. You want to try switching up your duties?” Working in the house would keep her out of the hot sun and away from backbreaking work. If she put up her feet on the couch from time to time, he was good with that.

Grace inclined her head. “Do you feel obligated to offer because I’m pregnant?” She set her hand over her stomach protectively.

Not obligated. But he was a good boss, and he valued her as an employee. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and you’ve risen to every challenge.”

“Are you saying working in the house would be a challenge?” Grace asked.

“Being closer to me and putting up with my grumpiness? I would say that, yes, that would be a challenge for anyone,” Jesse said.

Grace threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a good man, Jesse. I would be happy to help you with running your house. Thanks.”

Jesse hugged her but not too tight. “I’ll have a list of tasks for you tomorrow. Why don’t you head off and pick up Noah from school?”

Grace had arrived at work late and had stayed longer to make up the time. Not at his insistence, but that was who Grace was. Jesse didn’t want to lose her.

“I’ll do that. See you tomorrow.”

As Grace walked toward her car, Jesse looked back at the car parked near the end of his driveway on the public access road. He couldn’t see the driver with the glare of the sun against the window. He didn’t get many visitors to the farm. The last uninvited visitors had been the FBI, who had questioned him at length about his sister.

Were they back? Or was it a media outlet poking around about Regina? He’d hoped it was a lost tourist who would check their GPS and move on, but clearly that wasn’t the case. It had been a solid five minutes, and the car remained rooted in place.

Jesse didn’t want to be harassed. He didn’t want his employees hassled. Any altercation made the situation worse. He was the owner of the farm, and while diplomacy wasn’t on his mind, he forced himself to appear calm. When he was younger, he’d been a hothead, and that behavior only led to trouble. Deciding to play nice, he went inside the house, brewed a cup of coffee and carried it down the driveway.

The mug had his farm’s name on it, Willard’s Farm, and whoever was in the car could drink the coffee and keep the mug as long as they left him alone.

He glanced both ways before crossing the street. When he was closer, he had his first view of the driver. He almost spilled the coffee down his jeans. The police officer from the precinct he’d seen again at the All Night Diner was seated in the car, watching him. He had been thinking about those blue eyes for days.

What were the chances this was a social visit? He guessed next to nil.

He motioned for her to roll down her window. Keeping his relationship with the police and FBI friendly had been his intent, and now that he saw who was watching him, he was glad it wasn’t a reporter. This was an opportunity to talk to the pretty policewoman. Perhaps he could charm her into seeing his side of the situation.

“Good afternoon. I thought I would properly introduce myself. I’m Jesse Willard.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Willard. This is your farm. I’m Annabel Colton.”

Her last name was familiar, too. Same name as the detective in the GGPD and the FBI agent who had grilled him for hours about Regina and who were related to Matthew Colton, a serial killer serving a life sentence in prison. It seemed in Granite Gulch, investigations were a family affair.

He extended to her the cup of coffee. “Thought you might like this. Push through the afternoon lull.”

She reached out and accepted the mug. “Smells good.”

So did she. Even with the aroma of coffee in his nostrils, a light floral fragrance wafted from the car, her scent.

“I can’t drink much, though. No facilities,” she said, nodding at the car.

He leaned on the roof of the car, trying to look cool and figuring he missed it by a mile. She was under his skin, and he wanted to open the car door and pull her into his arms. Slender and strong, a combination he liked. He bet she held her own. “Planning on being here long?”

She nodded.

A stakeout? She was spying on him. “Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll save you a lot of time and trouble.” He already knew, but he wanted her to say it plain.

“We’re looking for your sister, Regina Willard.”

Annoyance plucked at him. “Regina is my half sister, and she isn’t here. The police and the FBI have scoured every inch of my farm. I haven’t seen her in six years. I’ve tried contacting her directly and through friends, and I can’t reach her.”

Annabel frowned. “She might turn up.”

“Unlikely. Regina and I aren’t close.”

Annabel took a sip of the coffee. “Thanks for the drink.”

She sounded as if she was ending the conversation, and he wasn’t ready to let this go. He didn’t want her outside his farm spying on him, and it bothered him immensely that she was working against him. “I already told your kin if Regina shows up, I will encourage her to speak with you all.”

“I know what you told my brothers.”

Her brothers had likely told her that he was the brother of a murderer. They were wrong on that count, and it bothered Jesse that her opinion might be shaded by theirs.

Why did the FBI and police want to pin this mess on him and Regina? He had nothing to do with Regina, and he didn’t believe she had anything to do with the murders. “I’ve been cooperative and helpful. I’ve been a good sport about this. But it’s costing me business, and if folks see you sitting outside my farm, that makes me look bad, like I’ve done something wrong.”

He saw compassion flicker across her face. Would she give up on the stakeout and report the truth to her superiors and her brothers? Regina was not on the farm.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Willard. I’m doing my job.”

“How can I make you understand? The last time I spoke to my sister, she was a bitter, angry woman. She thinks the world is out to get her, and she’s more likely to be hiding in her apartment somewhere binging on wine and television than doing the things you have implied she’s done.”

Things that made him sick to think about. Killing innocent women based on their names? Only a crazy person would see logic in that, and while Regina was sad, and he suspected clinically depressed, she wasn’t homicidal.

“Do you know where this apartment may be?”

He had been speaking generally. He didn’t know where Regina was. How many times and how many different ways could he say it? “I want to clear the air more than almost anyone in Granite Gulch. Regina’s had a hard life, and she doesn’t need this extra stress.”

“Hard life how?”

Guilt and protectiveness rose up inside him, creating a volatile cocktail that felt like anger. “Our father was not a nice man.”

“Lots of people have parents who are terrible. It doesn’t excuse committing a crime.”

She spoke as if it was a done deal, and she was sure Regina was guilty. Regina didn’t cope with things well. She hid and buried her head in the sand. If she had heard the police wanted to speak with her, that would only make her withdraw further inward.

He wouldn’t betray Regina by revealing family secrets, by telling Annabel the types of abuse his mother had rescued them from. Jesse carried a lot of guilt that his mother had left Regina behind. She had said she didn’t have a choice, but at the time, Jesse had wanted his big sister to flee with them more than anything.

“Regina found happiness with someone as an adult, and he left her. She didn’t handle it well.” When Regina had been in a relationship, one that had seemed stable, it was the first time Jesse recalled seeing Regina smile and laugh. He had been worried when the engagement ended. Regina had her wedding gown and had seemed happy to be getting married. She would have had a chance to have a family and do the things she had been denied. A loving, attentive mother and a gentle, yet firm father who ate dinner together and took family vacations to the lake. Granted, Regina hadn’t said she wanted those things, but Jesse had imagined her new life being happy.

“What do you mean she didn’t handle it well?” Annabel asked.

He didn’t intend to give Annabel reasons to believe Regina was unstable. “She grieved for the loss of her fiancé. She was obsessed with winning him back. I told her no man was worth the nonsense she was carrying on about, and she should let go. Anything was better than being emotionally attached to someone who didn’t want her in his life. I suggested online dating, therapy, joining a soccer team. But Regina wasn’t ready to move on.” She had been consumed by her anger, and she didn’t want his advice. Not that he was an expert in love. “My dating history isn’t pristine. I was the wrong person to advise her.”