Zeph Undercover (3 page)

Right. “Why me? You could visit Luke and Hannah again.”

“Too far out of town.”

“Anyway, Monty and radio station Betty know you’re a private detective. How long do you think undercover can last?”

A grin flashed across his face, the quick amusement that always melted her. “Depends on how many people you tell I’m here under false pretenses.”

“I don’t talk about you. To anyone.” The hurt on his face gave her a pang, but anger stiffened her resolve and she squashed it.

Silence filled the booth like a heavy fog. She couldn’t say that his gaze pleaded for help, but it didn’t miss by much.

A girl could drown in those soulful, espresso-dark eyes, but Allie hardened her heart and shrugged. “Too bad I’m not in a mood to be courted. You know where Monty’s office is. Good luck with your investigation.”

Zeph shifted in his seat. “If that’s all I can get. But don’t tell people why I’m here. Please.”

“Allie’s not a gossip,” Hannah said from behind him.

“No, she isn’t, but—”

“Please,” Hannah mimicked. “You’re worried she’ll tell. But you said you need her help.”

“I do. But you shouldn’t have heard any of that.”

“Allie would have told me anyway. So if you can’t talk her into helping, what’s your excuse for being in town?”

“Vacation? Wanting to relax?”

“Who’s going to buy that?”

“He could bring one of his bimbos and pretend they’re hiding from her husband,” Allie sniped. “That might have the advantage of being true.”

Her acid tone elicited a puzzled glance from Hannah, but Zeph spoke before awkward questions arose.

“I’ve never dated a married woman,” he said, clearly stung by the insult. He grimaced. “At least, not knowingly.”

“How noble.” Allie glared at him, wanting to hate him.

“You have to give him points for not pretending,” Hannah said.

“You keep out of this,” Allie and Zeph said together, and looked at each other. Allie’s gaze dropped, and she inched closer to the wall.

Hannah giggled. “I’d leave, but Betty’s bringing our lunch in a minute. Want me to go sit on the other side of the room?”

“No,” Allie and Zeph once more said in tandem. Allie peeked through her lashes at him. His answering glance shot heat through her.

“You two ought to take that show on the road,” Hannah said. “So tell us about the case, Zeph. Maybe that will convince Allie she should help.”

“Frank Fitzgerald—Luke’s lawyer, I don’t think you ever met him, Allie—called my company to investigate a scam and they sent me up here because I know Allie. It’s important to keep the investigation undercover until we know what’s going on.”

Allie let herself meet Zeph’s gaze, forced herself to visualize those pictures, to remember the phone calls. And Camille. “How long are you going to be here?”

“As long as it takes.”

Betty set three salads on the table. “Chicken’s coming. You want anything else?”

“No, thanks,” Allie said. “We’re fine, Betty.”

“You don’t look fine. Some lovers’ reunion this is. Hmph.” Betty stomped off to the kitchen. “Young ’uns today don’t know nothin’. Can’t…” Her words faded as she went through the door.

Allie and Hannah traded helpless glances. Hannah swallowed a giggle. “Well, it is funny,” Hannah defended herself, and picked up her fork. “You two just go ahead. I’m going to eat my lunch and try to stay out of the line of fire.”

Allie swallowed an almost-smile. It was funny. If you didn’t know the whole story. So getting Zeph to leave made more sense than anything else. Self-preservation, right? Allie closed her eyes and prepared to jump. “Okay.” She set her fork down and leaned her elbows on the table. “Here’s the deal, Zeph. Whatever you’re here to dig up probably needs digging, so I’m going to help you. You can act as though I’m the reason you came to Stone’s Crossing. We’ll both—all three—know it’s an act, but…”

If she’d dumped ice water in his lap, Zeph couldn’t have looked more surprised. “Just like that? Why?”

Because pretending a romantic involvement would be better than nothing? No. Because maybe he’d decide it was for real? Absolutely not. Because she was an idiot? Possibly. “Just because we’re not going to be—” She gulped and took a deep breath to steady herself. “—the romance of the century doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. Friends help each other.” Her hands shook too much to go back to eating so she folded them in her lap. Pathetic. A pretend romance with Zeph had her engines revving even though it was the last thing she should want. Correction—the last thing she did want.

“So it’s really going to be pretend? I wouldn’t mind courting you, but you made it plain you weren’t interested.”

Hannah raised her hand.

“What?” Allie snapped.

“Did you dump him?” Hannah bristled and glared at her.

“I thought you were going to stay out of the line of fire.”

“Not if you’re doing stupid things. How could you? And you didn’t even tell me.”

Allie turned away from Hannah. Unfortunately, that brought her face-to-face with Zeph. At least his expression didn’t broadcast triumph. She might have hit him it if had. His face showed no expression at all, and he ignored Hannah. He must be a terrific poker player.

“Thank you, Allie. This is very generous of you. And your help will make a big difference.”

“No problem. Always glad to help justice prevail.” Allie waved one hand, trying for airy unconcern.

Zeph frowned, glanced at Hannah. Looked back at Allie. “Are you—” He swallowed and began again. “You sure it’s going to be pretend? I—”

“No.” Might as well keep saying that. She reminded her heart of the hot and cold running women in his Los Angeles house. Also the noise and smog and crowds. “We’re just friends.”

“But in Stone’s Crossing, we’re lovers.” Zeph put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her.

Her heart raced and she had to fight to keep from melting against him.

“Well, that’s more like it,” Betty said. “I’ll just stand here holding these hot plates until you’re done.”

Chapter 2

Zeph leaned against his Carrera, more relieved than he wanted to admit. Allie had gone for it, thank God, because he didn’t know how he could have worked here without her for cover. This could be the most important case of his career. When he nailed the honcho of what could be one of the biggest scams in the state, he’d get a partnership in the firm, and he wanted that like he wanted air to breathe.

He hadn’t expected to be so disturbed by seeing Allie again. She’d made a guest appearance in his dreams every night since he’d last seen her, but still...
Focus on the job, Granger.

At least she had agreed to the plan. The sudden lack of tension after he’d worried all the way from L. A. left him ready for a beer or a fast game of handball or... No, not that. No women. Not while he pretended to court Allie. Unsettling thoughts squirmed in the dark recesses of his mind, images of happiness and forever and other scary things. Images that didn’t seem so scary when Allie starred in them.

Concentrate, damn it.
She’d be a help, a big help, no matter why she’d agreed. And being around her wouldn’t be a hardship. Maybe he’d even get her to change her mind about the pretending.

She walked away, the trim back view and tight jeans raising his temperature considerably. Now all he had to do was succeed without losing his head over her. But Jeeee-zus, she made him hot.

His mother had liked Allie’s voice, thought answering the phone to tell her all was well had shown good character. And had suggested his near-obsession was only because Allie hadn’t fallen into his hand like a ripe plum.

Ridiculous. Although...he wasn’t used to women ignoring him, especially in favor of horses, for God’s sake, and the first time he’d seen Allie she’d been so excited about her baby horse that she hadn’t even noticed him. So maybe that was it. Or maybe Allie really had something special.

She climbed into a big, muscular-looking truck and started the engine. He hurried to follow her to the clinic. They had a lot to talk about.

Like his case, he reminded himself. He’d better stay focused if he expected that partnership.

Right outside the town limits Allie turned left into a driveway, and he slowed to stay behind her. A big sign announced that he’d found the town animal clinic. A barn and several corrals around it bolstered the claim. He parked and tagged after Allie into the main building, which had once been a big, old ranch house. The Spanish style looked familiar enough to his L. A.-trained eyes. Red tile roof, white plaster. Bright geraniums like the ones his mother grew spilling out of big pots on a shady veranda.

He stepped through a carved door that would have done credit to an old Spanish mission. Even the unmistakable sharp hospital-like smell couldn’t ruin its beauty. What once had been a living room had been turned into a reception area, but the reception desk and the benches around the walls couldn’t disguise the old tile floor, striking stone fireplace, and elegant woodwork. “This must have been a real show place,” he said in a neutral voice.

Allie’s so not-neutral once-over hovered just short of a glare. “We need to talk. My office.” She turned on her heel and stalked into a room that he figured had originally been the library.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, swallowing a smile. “
You’re beautiful when you’re mad
” could get a chair thrown at him. But, damn, things became clichés because they were true, and anger sharpened her blonde beauty to a point just short of pain. Not that Allie didn’t rev his engine when those blue, blue eyes went all soft and sweet.

She took a seat behind the big oak desk, radiating I’m-in-command-here.

Fine. He wouldn’t argue. “We do need to talk. First off, thank you. Your cooperation will make my job a lot easier.”

Her raised eyebrow told him she hadn’t expected that. But however he might have surprised her, she recovered quickly. “I love this town. If there’s a mess here, I want it cleaned up.”

“I intend to do that.”

“And I want it done fast. The sooner you get your job done and leave, the happier I’ll be.”

“You’ve got it,” he lied. He’d be more than willing to pick up where they’d left off. After the night she’d left him, he’d broken down and called her once. Her excuses—work load, no time to visit him in L. A., she didn’t like cities—had sounded feeble to him. He knew about time management, and he didn’t believe she couldn’t arrange an occasional holiday. No one worked harder than he did, and he still had time for a rich life, full of the hottest new restaurants and hottest new women. In a small back corner of his mind, he wondered when that had stopped sounding like fun.

Something must have happened That Night. When he’d driven away, she’d been with the program one hundred per cent. When he’d returned, he’d found an empty house and a Dear John note.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“That’s my Allie. Always practical.” She opened her mouth but he cut across what he imagined would be her objection to the “my Allie” comment. “First, don’t tell anyone I’m a private detective. Besides you, only Luke and Hannah and Monty know, and they won’t talk. People respond better when they don’t know they’re talking to a detective.”

“This is a small town. You really think the word hasn’t spread?”

“You tell me.”

“Probably. Well-l-l…maybe not. We’ll see.”

“If that’s the best we can do.” He shrugged.

“What are you looking for? You only said ‘scam.’”

He considered her thoughtfully. She’d tell Hannah. Hannah would tell Luke. And it would stop there. Luke and Hannah owed him, even though he’d been paid well to be Luke’s bodyguard. “Someone here in town is fleecing investors in the building trade. Someone who has ties in Sacramento.”

“Why are you so sure it’s someone here?”

“All the subcontractors involved are fakes, but they all tie to a P. O. box that forwards to Blanton’s Builders here in Stone’s Crossing.”

After a mutinous moment, she said thoughtfully, “A building scam. And Blanton’s is the only builder/contractor in town. But you know Derek’s in an institution—”

“For the criminally insane. Yeah. Trying to kill people tends to get you in places like that. If he hadn’t kidnapped Hannah, he might still be free.” Zeph’s blood pressure just about red-lined every time he remembered Luke talking about Blanton’s crazed, wild eyes, the shaking hand holding a gun to Hannah’s head. Easy, man. It wasn’t Allie, it wasn’t Allie. “It may be wishful thinking, but I think he started this.”

“But he can’t be running it now. Don’t they monitor his mail and visitors?”

“He doesn’t have any visitors. I checked. And not much mail. Just reports about his estate. So somebody on the outside is using his company to run the fraud. Someone who has access to the money.” Like her father, maybe.

Allie went white and Zeph fought to keep his expression bland. Inside, he’d come to full alert. What was that about? Could she possibly think he didn’t know her father had been appointed to monitor the company’s finances? “I want to know who worked for him, who his friends were, and who’s running the company now.”