Chapter 10
Flynn walked to the barn. He needed a little distance from Gia and to get his head twisted on straight. There was too much flirting going on between them and nothing good could come of that, not while he was her attorney. There were ethics and rules.
He was also losing his objectivity. It was one thing to give her the benefit of the doubt but another not to keep an open mind to the possibility that she was dirty as sin. Instead, he kept telling himself that criminals sitting on billions of dollars of cash didn’t talk about planting Christmas tree farms. Not unless she planned to launder the money through the farm, which was as ridiculous as it was brilliant. But with the feds keeping eyes on her the way they were, every dime she spent would have to be accounted for. No cash transactions.
He’d need records of her day trading, because that seemed to be the way she planned to pay for her agricultural endeavors.
Dude neighed at the scent of Flynn. He found a bag of baby carrots near the grain feed and helped himself to a few, offering the treats to his gelding with the flat of his palm.
“How you doing, boy?” Flynn scratched the horse behind his ears. “We’ll go out tomorrow, get you a little exercise.”
Dude shoved his muzzle into Flynn’s hand, looking for more carrots or scratches.
“Greedy fellow.”
Clay’s boys had been doing a good job. Dude’s stall was clean and his water fresh. Flynn checked on Rory, who had thrown her head over the stall to see what was going on. Both horses liked to come in at night instead of grazing in the paddocks.
“You’re a nosy girl, just like your owner,” he told the mare. Gia’s veiled attempts at digging into his and Annie’s relationship had both amused and turned him on. At least in some areas she was very much transparent.
After Evan, I’m never having sex again.
She would with Flynn as soon as he stopped being her lawyer. And then she’d forget all about Evan Laughlin.
He gave Rory one last pat and hiked back to the house. The sun was starting to set, painting brilliant pinks, oranges, and blues across the sky. The earth still held the pungent scent of the recent rain. Flynn wished for more, especially if Gia used some of the pasture land for farming. Christmas trees; he smiled and scratched his head. Somehow he couldn’t picture America’s premier financial guru driving a tractor. Then again, she’d look damned good on top of a John Deere. Damned good.
He knocked on the door and let himself in, finding Gia sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
“The FBI has started harassing my mother,” she said without preamble.
He cocked his hip against the counter. “Where does your mother live?”
“In Florida. Boca Raton.”
“Did she talk to them?” He zeroed in on the coffeemaker, found the mugs, and poured them each a cup.
“No. She hid in her house, afraid to answer the door. I don’t want them bothering her. She has nothing to do with this. She didn’t like Evan; hated him, in fact.”
“Smart lady.”
“Can you make them leave her alone?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Probably not. They’ll likely be sniffing around all your family, friends, and associates. They can try to talk to anyone they want. No law against it.” No sense sugarcoating it. If they wanted to, the feds could make Gia’s life miserable.
“They’ve already interviewed everyone I’ve ever had a conversation with. When does it border on harassment?”
Flynn sat next to her, put his hand on the back of her neck, and rubbed the muscles there. “They want to flush Evan out, which means making you cooperate.”
“For the last freaking time, I don’t know anything.”
“I believe you, Gia.” Or at least he was starting to.
“You got enough money to send your mom on a cruise for a couple of weeks?”
She made a sound in her throat as if she thought he was nuts. “So now she has to go into hiding?”
“It was just a thought. You could always have her come here. They won’t harass her on your property because they’ve been told they have to go through me.”
“That feels good,” she said as his hands continued to knead the knots. “How about my shoulders?”
He moved his hands down and worked on her deltoids. She let out a moan of gratitude and he went instantly hard. Okay, bad idea. But he didn’t want to stop. His fingers itched to unzip her dress and touch her bare skin. Fondle her breasts and squeeze that perfect ass, which he’d been admiring since that first night in the Ponderosa.
She pulled her hair away to give him better access and he nearly groaned out loud. Gia sure wasn’t making it easy on him. Or, depending on how he looked at it, she was making it too easy. He stepped behind her barstool, hoping to hide the growing bulge in his jeans.
“Better?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good, because we’ve gotta stop now.”
“Why?” Gia leaned her head back and smiled into his face.
“You know why.” He reached for her hand and pressed it against his crotch.
“Uh-oh.” She giggled and squeezed his package.
“How much wine did you have at dinner?” He moved her hand and stepped away.
“Not nearly enough. You know, they have a name for men like you.”
“No more!” He returned to the stool next to her and took a slug of his coffee. “What do you want to do about your mom?”
She sobered quickly. “I don’t know yet. I’d send for her, but she has an active social life in Boca. What would she do here?” Gia stared out the big picture window. As beautiful as Rosser Ranch was, it wasn’t a thriving senior community.
“Why did she hate Laughlin?”
“She didn’t think he treated me well. But you know how mothers are. They want men to put their daughters on pedestals.”
“How did he not treat you well?” And how did a smart woman like you fall for a con artist?
“She thought he only wanted me as a trophy because of my celebrity. And in the end she was right. I opened a lot of doors for him.”
“You were never suspicious of him?” he asked, trying hard to understand why she hadn’t seen through his duplicity.
“Not as an investment banker.” She shook her head. “I actually thought he was mediocre in that area, solid but not taking the world by storm. Evan was the opposite of slick. Looking back on it, that’s probably what made him seem so trustworthy.”
“Then what were you suspicious of?”
“His feelings toward me. He told me he loved me often enough, but it always seemed like hollow words, like something he knew I wanted to hear. I never really felt it where it counted.” She pressed her hand against her heart.
“Why did you stay with him, then?”
She shrugged. “It was familiar and comfortable and I wanted to believe it was real.”
It bothered Flynn that she’d been in love with Laughlin. And there was more to it than the fact that the man had been a no-good grifter. There was a jealousy factor that Flynn wasn’t quite ready to explore, especially because he’d known Gia less than a month. It seemed a little soon to be territorial about a woman.
“What was the last thing he said to you?” It was a question he used to ask witnesses when he was an FBI agent. Sometimes those last words could help crack a case.
Gia thought about it for a while. “Evan had just gotten out of the shower and I was rushing off to work. He called to me, ‘Remember, we have dinner with Porter and Joan tonight. I’ll meet you at the restaurant.’”
“And then he never showed?”
“Right. The next morning someone from the SEC was pounding on my door. You know the rest.”
Gia got up and refilled their coffees. He drank, not worried that the caffeine would keep him up. It wasn’t like he’d be able to sleep with Gia lying in bed only yards away from the guest apartment.
“I told you mine,” Gia said. “It’s your turn to tell me yours. What’s the deal with you and Annie?”
He laughed. “There’s no deal. Our families are friends. Annie’s my friend.”
“You never slept with her?”
“Not that I would tell you if I had, but no, we never slept together.”
She squinted at him as if she thought he was lying. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not like that with us.”
“So what’s up with her family? It sounds like there are problems there.”
“That I can’t talk about,” he said and drained the rest of his coffee.
“Attorney-client privilege?”
“Yup. And it’s none of your business. So what did you want to tell me that needed to be said in private, besides the fact that you’re desperate to sleep with me?”
“For a guy who says sex is off the table, you sure bring it up a lot.”
She was right about that. He was playing with fire, but he couldn’t seem to stop flirting with her. “Someday I won’t be your attorney.” He winked at her and watched her face flush.
“At the rate the FBI is harassing me I’ll need a lawyer for the rest of my life. And you seem to know what you’re doing.”
He knew what he was doing, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. “What did you want to tell me?”
“That I need your help with something that has nothing to do with the law.”
“If you need me to build a fence, rope a calf, or bulldog a steer, I’m your man.” He grinned.
“None of the above.” She got up again and turned off the coffeemaker; the carafe was nearly empty. “I need you to help me persuade my neighbors to rubber stamp a project I’m planning.”
“What’s the project?”
“You promise you’ll keep it confidential?”
He brought his mug to the sink, rinsed it out, and put it in the dishwasher. “Yeah, as long it won’t get me disbarred.”
“It’s nothing like that,” she said. “I want to start a residential program for down-and-out women and teach them how to be financially independent. They’ll run the farm and I’ll provide them with classes on how to enhance their earning potential, how to budget their money, how to invest, stuff like that.” She spent the next hour giving him the details.
“Where will you get these women?” He liked the idea but didn’t think her neighbors would if the participants were right out of Frontera State Prison.
“I’ll put the word out on social media, go through social services and the Welfare Department. My name may be mud, but I don’t think desperate people will pass up a chance for room, board, a job, and a way to better their life.”
“You thinking this will be something that’ll resurrect your public image?” It certainly wouldn’t hurt it, Flynn thought.
“I’ve been planning this long before Evan and his Ponzi scheme. . . . I’ve been planning this since I was twenty. But yeah, it wouldn’t hurt my public image. It would be nice to stop getting death threats.”
“Why since you were twenty?” Flynn wondered what the impetus was.
“It’s when I made my first million dollars from investing my student loans in the stock market.” She laughed. “I know you’re appalled. But it worked out, didn’t it?”
“I hope that’s not what you’ll be teaching these women because you may as well take them to the nearest racetrack. Okay, you made your first million. That still doesn’t explain why you wanted to go into social work.” Especially because she’d spent her next years in the financial world and on television, making more money than most people could imagine.
“My life wasn’t always this.” She spread her arms wide at the yards of granite countertops and the pricey appliances. The house was a showplace. “When my father died he was up to his neck in debt.... He’d made some very bad investments. My mother had no idea we were living off his life insurance. She’d always let him oversee the finances, convinced he was better and smarter than her. Ha. I think I would’ve done a better a job and I was just thirteen. After the funeral the world started caving in us. We lost everything. The house, my mother’s jewelry, the country club, even the furniture.”
“What did you do?” The story hadn’t been in Gia’s Wikipedia entry. As far as Flynn knew, this wasn’t public information.
“The only skill my mother had was keeping house. Eventually, a family hired her to keep theirs. But until then, we lived hand to mouth, sometimes sleeping in the car, often relying on soup kitchens. It was a long way to fall . . . from Bedford to homeless.” She stopped and studied his reaction. “Does it shock you? Does it make you think I would steal investors’ life savings . . . their retirement?”
“No. But it helps me understand what drives you.” It was impressive how much she’d accomplished. “I’m sorry, Gia. No one should have to go through that.”
“I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me. It’s ancient history. I told you so you’d understand how important this program is to me. If my mother had been better equipped . . . well, things would’ve been different.”
“Look,” he said, “I like the idea and I’m happy to help any way I can. But I’m not a local—”
“But you sort of are,” Gia interrupted. “People here like you.”
“You’d be much better off getting Clay on your side. His family was among the first settlers of Nugget. He’ll have sway.”
“Will you help me talk to him?”
He didn’t see how that would hurt. But he wouldn’t force it down Clay’s throat. “Yeah, because I can’t seem to resist you. Where will you put these women? And what if they have kids?”
“I’ve thought about that,” she said. “I’m going to spruce up the bunkhouses and the cottages on the property. The bunkhouses for the single ladies and the cottages for families. It won’t be fancy, but it’ll be a roof over their heads. They’ll have their dignity.”
That last part made Flynn’s heart twist. Everyone should have dignity.
He looked at his watch. “You know it’s one in the morning? I’ve got to be up and out by six.”
“To give the cows shots?”
His mouth quirked. “They’re cattle, Gia, not cows. Come over to the squeeze chutes in the morning and watch. You want to fit in around here, learn how it’s done.”
She walked him to the door. “You have everything you need up there?”
“Yep.” Although he’d like her in his bed. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
He got halfway out the door when he turned back. “Gia?”
“Hmm?”
“Besides the fact that I want to sleep with you, I’m starting to like you. From what I see, you’re a good person. But if you’re conning me . . . don’t! You won’t like the consequences.”
* * *
Gia forced herself out of bed at the crack of dawn, showered, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. The idea of watching calves get vaccinated wasn’t all that thrilling, but she wanted to see Flynn in action. He was an amazing rider; she’d noticed that from the first time she’d seen him astride Dude. Nice seat, she giggled to herself. Flynn had a way of making her revert to her teenage years, back when a boy could make her giddy.
Last night’s declaration had made it clear he didn’t fully trust her, which was fine because she didn’t fully trust him either. How could any woman ever fully trust again after Evan? But she’d like to get back on the horse, so to speak. She’d always liked sex as long as it was with someone safe and respectful. Flynn felt safe. And he was one of the most respectful men she’d ever met.
Perhaps today she should start looking for a permanent attorney, she joked to herself. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on her priorities, he seemed to be a good lawyer. How could you beat having a defense attorney who was a former FBI agent and a federal prosecutor? Talk about cred.
She pulled on a pair of boots she’d recovered from her urban cowboy phase and headed for the “squeeze chutes,” if only she knew where they were. A while back she’d noticed a metal structure—a pen with gates and ramps—near the hay barn in the south pasture and suspected that was the place.
Sure enough, a group of men on horseback had gathered, including Flynn. He waved his hat at her and she climbed up on the fence to watch. They’d already rounded up a small herd of mamas and their babies and had corralled them in a fenced in area near the chute.
“Am I safe here?” she called to them.
Clay rode up. “You ever seen this before?”
“Can’t say that I have. But Flynn suggested I watch. It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“Nah. It’s like getting a shot at the doctor’s office. In a couple of weeks Flynn will dehorn ’em and castrate the males. That might hurt a little.”
She would be sure to miss that part of the program. Clay’s boys were helping, but Gia didn’t recognize the other rider. “Who’s the guy in the black cowboy hat?”
“That’s Lucky Rodriguez. Around here he may be just as famous as you.”
Was he wanted for investment fraud? Gia wanted to ask. “Ah, the rodeo star.”
“Champion bull rider.” Clay grinned and called out to Flynn. “Hey, Barlow, introduce Gia to Lucky.”
The two men trotted over and Lucky swiped off his hat and bent over the side of his horse to give her a bow. “Welcome, neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucky. I’m Gia.”
“My wife, Tawny, and I have been planning to come over to introduce ourselves, but the cowboy camp is booked solid this month.” His lips curved up into an amazing smile. “Who the hell would’ve thunk it?”
Dana had told her about the camp. Apparently it was a dude ranch, but Lucky didn’t like calling it that. “Congrats on your success.”
“We’re certainly not complaining. But I’ll be bringing the welcome wagon over real soon . . . my daughter, Katie, too.”
Lucky and Clay rode off to shoo a stray into the pen.
Flynn caught her yawning. “You only half-awake?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how you keep these hours. Is there even coffee in the guest apartment?”
“Yep, it’s fully equipped. You’re not working the markets this morning?”
“Nope. I came to watch you instead. I might get a couple of trades in before lunch.” So far she’d had a good week. “When does the fun start?”
“In a few minutes. You didn’t bring a hat?”
“No. What for?”
“The sun’s gonna get you with that fair skin of yours.” He took off his and dropped it on her head. The hat was huge and fell over her eyes. Flynn made a few adjustments. “There you go,” he said and rode away.
A smile rose to her lips and she pushed the Stetson back so she could see better. Clay opened the corral and Flynn herded one of the calves toward the chute. He and Lucky flanked each side of the little guy. Once the calf went in the chute, Clay’s oldest boy, Justin, pulled a lever that held the animal’s head in place. With another lever, he squeezed the bars of the chute closer to the calf’s body, keeping it still for the vaccination. The whole thing took less than five minutes and when they were done, Justin opened the chute and the calf ran out.
Flynn reunited the critter with its mama, moved her out of the corral, and the two wandered off to freedom. Pretty soon the guys were like a well-oiled machine, moving calves in and out faster than Gia could keep track of. She thought it was nice that the neighbors helped out and wondered if Flynn did the same for them.
Occasionally he’d look her way and wave. Gia waved back, and a few times she caught Clay grinning. Clearly, he thought they were an item, which was kind of embarrassing because she and Flynn barely knew each other. She wouldn’t want the good folks of Nugget to think New Yorkers were slutty. It was bad enough they thought she’d helped steal billions of dollars.
By eight o’clock they were done. Lucky and the McCreedys rode off to their respective properties and Flynn cleaned up the unused syringes and the rest of the medical supplies.
“You gonna make me breakfast?” he called as she scrambled down from the fence.
“If you trust my cooking, sure.” She could probably manage toast, bacon, and a couple of fried eggs.
He pointed to his truck, which he’d parked in the pasture and was loading. “You want a ride?”
“Nah, I’ll walk back.” It beat the treadmill in the basement.
“Okay. I’ll let Dude loose and meet you at the house.”
At home she put on a pot of coffee, grabbed the eggs and bacon from the fridge, and a carton of orange juice. Flynn had beaten her back, but he’d gone up to the garage apartment to wash up. She got the bacon going and put down two settings at the center island. The house had a breakfast nook and a formal dining room, but the island worked better because everything was so spread out. The kitchen alone outsized most New York apartments.
Flynn came in through the mudroom.
“I hung your hat in there,” Gia said. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. How do you like your eggs?” She popped a few slices of bread into the toaster.
“Sunny-side up.” He grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate she’d set out and poured them each a cup of coffee. “What did you think of Lucky?”
“He seems nice.” She finished the eggs and plated them.
Flynn covered them in pepper, took a bite, and sopped up the runny yolk with his toast. She liked the efficient way he ate. There was something very manly about it.
“When do you think I should call a meeting about my proposal?” she asked. “Annie said she’d come to talk about the agricultural points.”
“No one will have a problem with your tree farm or growing hay. That’s the easy part,” he said. “You talk to your mom today?”
“Not yet. I’ll call her later.” She looked at the time. “She’s probably playing golf. What time’s your cattlemen’s meeting?”
“This evening. I was thinking about going into town and getting a haircut.”
“From Owen? The man’s nuts. One day he’s offering to be my getaway driver, the next he’s telling me he’s watching me, as if I might steal his wallet when he’s not looking.”
Flynn let out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s different. But folks in the Sierra are. I wouldn’t be offended. Chances are he likes you or he wouldn’t bother with you at all.”
“I’m friends with his daughter, Darla. If I were you, I’d have her cut your hair. She’s very good.”
Flynn got up and stuck two more slices of bread in the toaster.
“You’re still hungry?” The man ate like a horse and didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
“Yeah. That was hard work this morning.” He grinned. “Want another slice?”
“I’m stuffed,” she said.
“You sure you want to set up this residential program? It may help redeem you in the public eye, but there are easier ways to do that.”
“After everything I told you last night . . . I bought this place to do it. It’s important to me.”
Gia didn’t like talking about how the bank had foreclosed on their house in Bedford and how they’d slept in shelters. But she would do anything to save someone else from poverty . . . from the misery she’d suffered.
Flynn came back with his toast and put his hand on her back. Even through her sweatshirt she could feel the warmth and strength of his touch. “I get it. But you’ve got your hands full right now.”
“This has nothing to do with the case.”
“All right, I’ll drop it.” His hand left her back and she felt bereft without it. His touch helped to shore her up. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Dana and I are going to Reno for her wedding dress fitting.”
“Ah, the big wedding I’ve been hearing so much about.”
Gia started to clear away the dishes. “Yep. It’s big news in Nugget. I’m happy for Dana. Aidan is a great guy and she was my first real friend when my life blew up. We were in the Lumber Baron together last summer when an arsonist set it on fire. Did you hear about it?” When he nodded, she said, “Dana got smoke inhalation and had to go to the hospital.”
“So Aidan’s the arson investigator who caught the culprit, huh?”
“Uh-huh. He and Chief Shepard.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” He came up behind her as she was rinsing dishes and just stood there. “What do you do at a wedding gown fitting?”
“Drink wine, ooh and ah over the bride, and try on stuff. I gather you’ve never been married.”
“Nope.” He was so close she could feel his body heat.
“How come? You’re almost forty.”
“I don’t have anything against marriage.... It’s hard to date and get serious when you’re running around chasing bad guys. On my days off I was helping with the ranch and before I knew it I was old.”
“You’re not old; far from it,” she said and squeezed around him to turn off the coffeemaker. “Wasn’t there anyone special?”
“There were lots of special women. Just not special enough. How about you? Before Evan, was there someone you were serious with?” He propped his hip against the counter, waiting expectantly.
“Not really. I dated, had boyfriends, but like you, my career came first. And because I don’t want to get married there was no pressure to get serious.”
“Why don’t you want to get married?” he asked, looking at her as if she were alien. “All women want to get married.”
“A: That’s a generalization. And B: It’s sexist. I don’t want to share a bank account with another person. I don’t want to make financial decisions by committee. And I don’t want to be dependent on someone else.” Like her mother was on her father.
“You make marriage sound like a business merger. What about wanting to make a home with someone you love?”
“Wow, aren’t you the romantic.”
“Maybe.” He gave her a crooked smile that she felt to the tips of her toes. “I had good role models. My parents have been married forty-five years. We still catch ’em making out in front of the TV. So your mom never remarried?”
“Nope.” Iris had been too busy surviving.
“Did she and your dad have a good marriage before he died?”
How good could it be when he took their life’s savings and squandered it in bad investments without telling his wife? She shrugged. “I was a kid.”
Flynn studied her but didn’t press; then his phone rang. It sat on the island where he’d been eating, next to his wallet and keys. He reached over, grabbed it, and checked the display.
“I’ve got to take this.”
He wandered into the dining room, where Gia could hear him talking in a muffled voice. She caught words and snippets of conversation. It sounded to her like it was work, but it was hard to tell. She finished tidying up and continued to eavesdrop.
“That was Toad,” Flynn said, coming back into the kitchen. “Your ex-boyfriend managed Cleo’s money. His assets are listed at more than a billion dollars.”
Gia took in a sharp breath. Cleo was one of the biggest philanthropists in the world. His charitable trust gave away millions of dollars in grants to human rights organizations, research centers, even public libraries. “Oh God, Evan stole it all, didn’t he?”
“Dunno. But if Cleo had discovered the fraud and threatened to go to the SEC, that would be a good motive for killing him, wouldn’t it?”
Gia’s eyes widened at what Flynn was suggesting. Evan . . . a murderer?