Authors: Beverly Barton
Not everything, Deborah thought. Not then, not later, and certainly not now. She never told him how much she loved him. Not until that night by the river. But he'd known she had
a crush on him, just as he was aware, now, that she was afraid of him, afraid of how he made her feel.
“Deborah's right, pal. It's getting late.” Ashe ruffled the boy's thick blond hair, hair the exact shade Deborah's had been as a child. “I'll be around for several weeks. You'll have a chance to ask me a lot more questions.”
Deborah waited in the hallway until Ashe walked past her and toward his own room. He hesitated in the doorway.
“You were always special to me,” he said. “I trusted you in a way I didn't trust another soul.”
She stood in the hall, staring at his back as he entered his room and closed the door. She shivered. What had he meant by that last statement? Was he accusing her of something? He had trusted her. Well, she had trusted him, too. And he had betrayed her. He had taken her innocence, gotten her pregnant and left town.
Whatever had gone wrong between them hadn't been her fault. It had been his. He hadn't loved her. He'd used her. And afterward, when she'd poured out her heart to him, he'd said he was sorry, that he never should have touched her.
Ashe McLaughlin had regretted making love to her. She could never forget the pain that knowledge had caused her. Even if she could forgive him, she could never forget what he'd said to her eleven years agoâ¦
But I don't love you, Deborah. Not that way. What we did tonight shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry. It was all my fault. Forgive me, honey. Please forgive me.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She walked the few steps to her open bedroom door, crossed the threshold, closed the door quietly and, once alone, wiped away her tears.
Â
“A
LL OF
M
S.
V
AUGHN'S
calls are to be screened. That means the caller must identify him or herself and must be someone Ms. Vaughn knows. Otherwise the call will be directed to me. Is that understood?”
Ashe McLaughlin issued orders to the office staff of Vaughn & Posey, the men obviously intimidated, the women enthralled. Standing six-foot-three, broad-shouldered and commanding in his gray sport coat, navy slacks and white shirt, Ashe was the type of man to whom no one dared utter a word of protest.
Listening to Ashe give orders, Deborah waited in her office doorway, Neil Posey at her side. When the staff, one by one, turned their heads in her direction, she nodded her agreement with Ashe. He'd made it perfectly clear to her before they arrived at work that he would be in charge of her life, every small detail, until she was no longer in danger.
Ashe turned to Annie Laurie, who had worked as Neil's secretary for the past five years, and was doing double duty as Deborah's secretary while hers was out on maternity leave. “Carefully check all of Deborah's mail. Anything suspicious, bring to me. And I'll open all packages, no matter how innocent looking they are. Understand?”
“Of course, Ashe.” Despite her mousy brown hair and out-of-style glasses, plain little Annie Laurie had grown into a lovely young woman.
Deborah tried not to stare at Ashe, but she found herself again inspecting him from head to toe as she had done at breakfast this morning. No wonder all the females in the office were practically drooling. Although his clothes were tailored to fit his big body, on Ashe they acquired an unpretentious casualness. He wore no tie and left the first two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a tuft of dark chest hair.
“Who does he think he is coming in here issuing orders right and left?” Neil Posey whispered, his tone an angry hiss. “When you introduced him as your bodyguard, I assumed you would be giving him orders, not the other way around.”
“Ashe can't do the job Mother hired him to do unless I cooperate.” Deborah patted Neil on the shoulder. “Ashe is here to protect me. He's a trained professional.”
“He hasn't changed. He's as damn sure of himself as he ever
was.” Neil took Deborah's hand in his. “I don't like the idea of that man living in your house, sleeping across the hall from you.”
“He could hardly protect me if he stayed at a motel.”
“Why Ashe McLaughlin? Good grief, Deb, you were in love with the guy when we were in high school.” Neil's eyes widened. He stared directly at Deborah. “You don't stillâ¦the man doesn't mean anything to you now, does he?”
“Lower your voice.” She had told Neil time and again that she couldn't offer him more than friendship. She'd never led him on or made him any promises. Perhaps it was wrong of her to go out with him from time to time, but he was such a comfortable, nonthreatening date.
“I'm sorry,” Neil said. “It's just I'd hate to see him break your heart. You mooned around over him for years and all he could see was Whitney.”
“Yes, Neil, I know. Can we please change the subject?”
Deborah caught a glimpse of Ashe going from desk to desk, speaking personally to each Vaughn & Posey employee. Ashe looked up from where he was bent over Patricia Walden's desk and smiled at Deborah. He'd seen her staring at him, watching while Patricia fluttered her long, black eyelashes at him. Deborah forced a weak smile to her lips.
“Look at him flirting with Patricia, and her a married woman!” Neil sucked in his freckled cheeks, making his long, narrow face appear even more equine than usual.
“Neil, close the door, please. We need to discuss the Cotton Lane Estates. I'm afraid we've allowed my situation to interfere in our moving ahead on this project.”
Neil closed the door, followed Deborah across the room, waited until she sat, then seated himself. “We have the surveyor's report. No surprises there. I've had Annie Laurie run a check on the deed. Everything is in order. Mr. and Mrs. McCullough have agreed to our last offer. I'd say, despite your problems, things are moving ahead quite smoothly.”
“We should have had this deal wrapped up a week ago. Have Mr. and Mrs. McCullough come in today and let's get everything signed, sealed and delivered. We've still got several months of good weather, so if we can give Hutchinson the go-ahead, he can move his crews in there and cut the roads we'll need before we divide the land into one-acre lots.”
“I'll give the McCulloughs a call. Since he's retired, they shouldn't have any problem driving down from Decatur this afternoon.”
“Fine. And thanks for handling things while my life has been turned upside down lately.”
Neil smiled, that widemouthed grin that showed all his teeth. “You know I'd do anything for you, Deb. Anything.”
The door opened and Ashe McLaughlin walked in, making no apologies for interrupting. “Make time at lunch to go with me to see Sheriff Blaylock. I want to arrange for one of his men to keep an eye on you tomorrow while I do a little investigating on my own.”
“I don't think that's necessary,” Neil said. “Whenever you need to do your
investigating,
I'll be more than happy to stay with Deborah.
“Neilâ” Deborah wanted to caution her friend, but she didn't get the chance.
“Look, Posey, I appreciate the fact you're Deborah's friend, but you're a realtor. I'm a professional bodyguard. If I can't be at Deborah's side, I want another professional to be there. One of the sheriff's deputies.”
“I can assure you that I'd die to protect Deborah.”
“That may be so, but once they kill you, what would keep them from killing her?” Ashe ignored Deborah's pleading look that said not to crush Neil Posey's ego. But Ashe didn't give a damn about Posey's ego. He simply wanted to make sure the man understood he wasn't equipped to play hero. “Do you own a gun? Do you carry it with you? Have you ever killed a man?”
“No, I don't own a gun and I most certainly have never killed another human being.” Neil shuddered, obviously offended at the thought.
“It's all well and good to be willing to die to protect Deborah, but it's just as important to be willing to kill, or at least maim an assailant, in order to protect her.”
“I'll arrange to go with you to see Charlie Blaylock,” Deborah said, her tone sharp. She wanted Ashe to know how displeased she was with him. There had been no need to humiliate Neil. “Thank you for your offer, Neil. I'd feel completely safe with you, but⦔ She nodded in Ashe's direction. “Mother is paying Mr. McLaughlin a small fortune, so I plan to get our money's worth out of him.”
“Yes, wellâ¦I understand.” With shoulders slumped, Neil slinked out of Deborah's office like a kicked dog.
She marched across the room, slammed shut the door and turned on Ashe. “How dare you make Neil feel less than the man he is! What gave you the right to humiliate him that way?”
“My intention wasn't to humiliate Neil. Hell, I have no reason to dislike the man, to want to hurt him. My intention was to show him that he's useless as a bodyguard.”
“Did you have to do it in front of me?” She looked down at her feet. “Neil has a crush on me.”
Ashe laughed. “That must be the reason Annie Laurie can't get to first base with him.”
Deborah snapped her head up, her eyes making direct contact with Ashe's. She smiled. “I've done everything but offer to pay for their wedding to get Neil interested in Annie Laurie. He can't seem to see past me to take notice of what a wonderful girl Annie Laurie is and how much she adores him.”
Ashe stared at Deborah, his expression softening as he remembered another stupid man who had been so blinded by his passion for one woman that he'd allowed a treasure far more rare to slip through his fingers. Unrequited love was a bitch.
“I'm sorry if you think I was too rough on Neil. Annie Laurie had told me he liked you, but I had no idea he fancied himself in love with you. I'll tread more lightly on his ego from now on.”
“Thank you, Ashe. I'd appreciated it.”
A soft knock sounded at the door, breaking the intensity of Deborah's and Ashe's locked stares.
“Yes?”
Annie Laurie cracked open the door, peeked inside and held out a bundle of mail. “I've checked through these. The one I put on top looks odd to me. Whoever sent it used one of Deborah's business cards as a mailing label.”
“Hand me that letter and place the others on the desk,” Ashe said.
Annie Laurie obeyed Ashe's command. Deborah glanced from Annie Laurie's worried face to the letter in Ashe's hand. She waited while he turned the envelope over, inspecting it from every angle. He held it up to the light.
“Does this look pretty much like the other letters you've received?” he asked.
“The others were typed,” Deborah said. “This is the first time they've used my business card.”
Ashe walked over to Deborah's desk, picked up her letter opener and sliced the envelope along the spine. Lifting out a one-page letter, he laid the opener down, spread apart the white piece of stationery and read aloud the message, which had been typed.
“Don't show up in court. If you do, you'll be sorry.”
Deborah glanced at Annie Laurie who seemed to be waiting for something. “Is there something else?” she asked.
Tilting her head to one side and casting her gaze downward, Annie Laurie smiled. “Megan stopped by to see you. She's got Katie with her.”
“Oh.” Deborah returned Annie Laurie's smile. “I suppose
everyone's passing Katie around as if she were a doll. Tell Megan I'll be out in just a minute.”
Annie Laurie slipped out of the office, silently closing the door behind her.
“What was that all about? Who are Megan and Katie?”
“Megan is my secretary. She's on maternity leave. Katie is her two-week-old baby girl.”
Ashe shook his head. “You've just received another threatening letter and you're concerned with coochie-cooing over your secretary's new baby?”
“I've received a letter very similar to the one you hold in your hand every day since Lon Sparks was arrested,” Deborah said. “And I get at least one threatening phone call a day. But it isn't every day that Katie goes for her two-week checkup and Megan brings her by to see us.”
Ashe grinned. God bless her, Deborah hadn't really changed. Not nearly as much as he thought she had. And certainly nowhere near as much as she tried to make everyone think. Underneath all that tough, career-woman exterior lay the heart of the sweet, caring girl she'd been years ago. He supposed he should have realized that Deborah was perfectly capable of handling both roles, that sophistication and success didn't exclude the more nurturing qualities that made Deborah such a loving person.
“You go visit with mother and baby,” Ashe said. “I'll phone Sheriff Blaylock and let him know we'll be stopping by around noon. We'll let him add this letter to his collection.”
“It won't do any good.” Deborah opened the door. “There are never any fingerprints, nothing unique about the stationery. They're all mailed from Sheffield. And the typewriter isn't much of a clue. Hundreds of people in this area have access to the same brand.”
“Whoever's doing this is experienced. He's no amateur.”
“Buck Stansell may be a redneck outlaw, but he's a professional redneck outlaw.”
“Yeah, his family's been in the business for several generations.” Ashe glanced around Deborah's office. “Kind of like the Vaughns have been in real estate for three generations.”
“Don't assume that I'm taking the threats lightly,” she said, her hand on the doorpost. “I'm shaking in my boots. But I have a business to run, people who count on Vaughn & Posey for their livelihoods. And I have a mother who's in bad health and a châ¦a brother who's only a child.”
“Who has access to your business cards?”
“What?”