Justin didn’t speak all the way back to the house, mostly because of the noise of the ATVs but also because he was deep in thought. He knew the boots could be a clue…or their absence could mean nothing. They were made of leather, and the ME had already said the feet were either exposed or near the surface, where the boots would have likely been dragged away or chewed up. It seemed possible that they would have been buried with the body and the rest of the clothing.
They parked the ATVs back in the stable and shut the doors. As they turned to walk in opposite directions, Lori stopped.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” She ducked her head shyly. “I have lasagna already made, and Kenzie skipped out on me.”
There was almost nothing he’d rather do than stay, but was that wise? He seriously doubted it was. Physically, emotionally, personally…absolutely. But was it too soon for her? Or maybe it wasn’t really about him. It might be something as simple—and nonpersonal—as not wanting to eat alone.
He noticed that her eyes glistened suspiciously. “I know you’re probably busy….” Lori looked away. “I guess I’m a little more shaken up about this whole thing than I thought I’d be.” She straightened, as if forcing herself to be strong. “That’s okay. Thanks for letting me go with you.” She turned and took a step toward her house.
Her ass looked great in those tight jeans, and Justin knew everything about this was wrong. The Texas Ranger in him knew he should leave, the red-blooded male said he should take advantage of her loneliness, but the gentleman who would make his mother and grandmother proud knew he had to stay and keep her company…and nothing more. How could he say no when she’d practically admitted to needing him?
“I am hungry, and I’ve got nothing planned for this evening,” he called after her. “If the offer’s still good, I’ll help you eat that lasagna.”
She stopped in midstride. With her back still to him, he saw her take a deep breath and lift her hands to her face. To wipe away tears? He definitely heard a sniffle before she turned toward him and managed a weak smile. She didn’t say it, but he could see the gratitude in her eyes. “It’ll just take me a half hour to finish cooking it.”
He caught up to her, and they walked side by side to her house. The coolness of the air-conditioning was welcome after their hot, dusty afternoon. Justin hung his hat on the hall tree next to hers. “I need to wash up. Where’s the restroom?”
“On the other side of the stairs, across the hall from Mark’s office.”
By the time he returned, the lasagna was in the oven, and Lori was washing vegetables for a salad. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up as he joined her next to the sink.
“What can I do to help?”
“Do you like cucumbers in your salad?”
“Sure, everything but onions and bell peppers.”
She handed him a peeler. “Know how to operate this?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m the chief potato peeler every Sunday at Grammy’s.”
Lori passed a cucumber to him. “I think that’s so nice that you’re close to your grandmother. Do your parents live around here?”
“No, they died in a car accident when I was in law school. At least they were together.” His hands stilled for a moment as images flickered through his brain of his parents, who had been happily married for over twenty-four years. They’d almost made it to their silver anniversary. They’d had the kind of marriage he eventually wanted. He shook off the memories and continued. “All three of us were grown, so it wasn’t as hard as it would have been if we were younger.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” She tore the romaine lettuce leaves into bite-sized pieces and dropped them in a bowl.
“Two brothers, no sisters. One’s a DEA agent here in Austin, and the other is a Homeland Security officer in DC. How about you?” Justin finished peeling the cucumber. “Slices or chunks?”
“Slices,” she answered, then added, “I have a brother who lives north of Austin. I hardly ever see him or my mother, who remarried and moved to Houston. My dad is dead.”
Justin dropped the cucumber slices into the salad bowl. “I’m sure my brothers and I would rarely get together if it wasn’t for Grammy. We all used to spend several weeks each summer at her farm, and she still treats us like we’re kids. She cooks a big meal every Sunday and we’re expected to be there if we’re in town. Sometimes I wish I could just sleep in, but it’s kind of a nice tradition.”
“It sounds wonderful. My family never was particularly close, but I loved Mark’s parents. I really miss them.”
“Was Mark an only child?”
“Yes, and he must have always gotten everything he wanted. I don’t think he knew the meaning of the word no. He definitely didn’t like to hear it from me.”
They worked in tandem well, their arms occasionally brushing as they passed from the sink to the counter. And every minute Justin grew more aware of the woman beside him. In the back of his mind was the nagging reminder of how wrong it was for him to fraternize with a suspect. Conversely, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so attracted to someone.
The oven timer dinged, and Lori took the pan of lasagna out of the oven. She placed it on the island on a hot pad. Justin put the bowl of salad next to it.
“Could you watch the garlic bread?” she asked as she took dishes off the shelf to set the table.
Justin obediently bent over so he could see into the lower oven, where the bread was toasting under the broiler. He heard the refrigerator door open.
“Are you off duty?”
He twisted his head around and saw that she was holding a bottle of wine. Was he off duty? His day had officially ended, and he wasn’t exactly focusing on the case right now. Sure, they had talked about Mark, but to be honest, the dead man was no longer dominating his thoughts. Could he keep his objectivity if this evening turned from business to social?
But then he considered that everyone deserved some downtime, and was it a crime to want to spend it with a beautiful woman?
He took his gun out of its holster and reached over her to put it on top of the refrigerator. He would have towered over most females, but Lori was only about four inches shorter, so that when he looked down and she looked up, their faces were close…too close.
Lori could feel the warmth of his body radiating out. He smelled like mint and sunshine. Her breath caught in her throat, and a rush of blood pumped through her veins. Her eyes focused on his lips, strong, masculine lips, and she had a sudden, irresistible desire to taste them. It had been so long since she had been kissed or caressed.
Not that there hadn’t been a steady stream of men who had found their way to her doorstep, hoping she would be lonely enough to invite them in, including her creepy neighbor, Winston. It wasn’t that the man wasn’t attractive, in a Harrison Ford kind of way. He was just so pushy and hit on her a lot harder than she felt comfortable with, considering the difference in their ages and the fact that she had been, at that time, neither a divorcée nor a confirmed widow.
The truth was, she had just not been tempted or ready for a new relationship. Having Mark simply disappear had left Lori in limbo. She never knew if he was going to come back and try for a reconciliation, which she wouldn’t have welcomed but, for Mackenzie’s sake, would have tried. Or he could have come back and kicked her and her daughter out on the street. But she wasn’t going to give him a reason by becoming involved with another man.
Until a tall, handsome Texas Ranger walked into her life.
Of course, his reason for being here complicated matters rather than simplified them. Still, she couldn’t cool the urge to rip Justin’s clothes off and make mad, passionate love with him right here on the kitchen floor.
Not that he would be interested in satisfying her desires. He was here as an officer of the state, investigating a murder. And she wasn’t naive enough not to realize that she was probably the number one suspect. She loved suspense movies and books. Didn’t they always assume the spouse did it? Justin was likely hanging out just to see if she would slip up and tell him something that would solve the mystery of Mark’s death.
Damn it, she wished he weren’t wearing that star. In over eight years, even more if you considered how little attention she had gotten from her husband the years before that, she had not had such a strong, immediate physical reaction to a man. She knew that under that white shirt were well-toned muscles…tanned skin…strong but gentle hands…and a dick that could ease that ache in her groin.
Horrified at the direction of her wayward thoughts, she abruptly backed away, breaking the magnetic pull of his masculinity. “Uh…does that mean you’re off duty?” She wasn’t happy that her voice sounded as shaky as she was feeling.
He too stepped back, confusion clouding his sky blue eyes. “Even Rangers get time off to eat.”
“And drink? Would you like a glass of wine?” She held up a chilled bottle with the CSC logo on the label.
“I’m usually a beer kind of guy, but I’ll try a glass. Because it’s one of yours, right?”
“Nothing but. It’s aged three years. We had a good harvest that year. The grapes don’t like to stand in water, and we didn’t get a lot of rain.”
She poured them each a glass and handed him one. Was it inappropriate to toast to finding out her husband was dead? There was still the matter of his being found naked and the other questionable circumstances surrounding his death. Had a jealous husband caught Mark in bed with his wife and beat the shit out of him? Definitely worth toasting. Or had he been attacked, stripped, and tortured before he was murdered? Not appropriate for toasting. She settled for lifting her glass in a silent salute to the meal before taking a drink.
“The bread!” She noticed the wisp of smoke coming from the oven just as the smell of burning garlic toast reached her nostrils.
Justin rushed to save it, but it was too late. The bread was several shades past edible. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding a steaming pan of charred chunks.
For some reason it struck her as funny. It was definitely not the image most people had of a Texas Ranger. She started giggling, and his lips—those beautiful lips—twitched into a smile.
“I think I can make the call on this.” He dumped the toast into the sink.
“I can make more.”
“Nah, I’m too hungry, and that lasagna smells great. I can live without bread.”
She sat on one of the barstools and reached for the salad bowl. “Oh, I forgot the dressing.” She started to stand, but he waved her back down.
“Hey, I dropped the ball on the bread. The least I can do is get the dressing.” He took a bottle of raspberry vinaigrette out of the refrigerator and carried it to the island, where he sat on the stool next to Lori. She passed him the salad bowl.
After digging into the lasagna, he took a drink of the wine, and his eyes widened in amazement. “This is really good.”
“That’s made from apples. I added it to our list several years ago. I like that it’s crisp and fresh.”
“Like biting into an apple,” he agreed. “But I didn’t see any apple trees.”
“I buy the juice from an orchard in Llano. Mostly Fuji and Gala because it’s a good mix of sour and sweet. I prefer to use Texas products when I can, but most of my grapes come from California.”
He seemed surprised. “You don’t use your own grapes?”
“Sure, but we’ve grown too large. We were producing about ten thousand cases a year, but now we’re up to twenty thousand cases a year. For that we need three hundred forty tons of grapes, and our vines don’t produce but about half that. Plus, we can’t grow the species that make the best chardonnays.”
“Three hundred forty tons! Wow! I never would have guessed.”
“We’re one of the smaller wineries, so that’s actually not very much,” Lori explained. “Our grapes are just as good as California’s, but it’s more of a challenge to grow them here because of the clay soil and heat. But I’ll bet you didn’t know that the first vineyard in North America was here in Texas back around 1659, started by Franciscan priests.”
Justin studied her with a smile. “You really have a passion for this, don’t you?”
“I do. It’s funny because I’d never even seen a farm when I was growing up. Can you imagine a Texas girl who has never ridden a horse?”
“I suspect that’s common nowadays.”
“Well, I took to the country like a pioneer. I love the feel of the dirt in my hands and the smell of ripe grapes on the vines. And I love the intricacies of winemaking. We modernized some of the steps, but mostly it’s still done the good old-fashioned way.”
“I went on a brief tour last Saturday, but I think I’d rather have you as my guide.”
Lori smiled. “Sure, just drop by, and I’ll show you how it’s done. We’re crushing now, so we’re pretty busy.”
“You don’t actually work in the winery, do you?” he asked between bites.
“I have. But I have an excellent manager who I let handle the production.”
“I meant to ask you about your employees. How many are there?”
“Two full time in the winery, three in the restaurant, and a bartender in the tasting room. During peak times we also hire about a dozen extras.”
“Were any of them here when Mark was alive?”
“There wasn’t a restaurant then, and I think Raúl is the last one left. Oh, and his sister, Raquel. You met her today in the restaurant. She’s a server and helps out in the kitchen.”
“I’ll need to interview them.”
“No problem. They live on the premises, so they’re almost always here, unless they’ve run into town on an errand.” She was disappointed that the conversation had turned back to the investigation. For a moment there, she had been able to enjoy a meal in the company of an attractive man.
He too seemed uncomfortable that the case had interfered with a pleasant evening. He immediately changed the subject back to their families, and they spent the rest of dinner sharing stories, he about his eccentric grandmother and she about the love of her life, Mackenzie.
Finally, Justin pushed his plate away. “I’m stuffed. I haven’t had lasagna that good in…well, maybe ever. Where did you learn to cook like that?”
“Mark’s grandmother was born in Italy. She couldn’t speak much English, but she showed me how to cook real Italian food. I use her recipes in the restaurant.”
He picked up his plate and hers, carried them to the sink, and started to rinse them off.
“Don’t bother with those. I can do them later. More wine?” she asked.
“No, one’s my limit when I have to drive home.”
Too bad he can’t spend the night. Lori shook her head. Where had that thought come from? Jeez, she needed to spend some quality time with her vibrator tonight before she said something that would embarrass her. The last thing she wanted to do was stand next to him and wash the dishes, but she also didn’t think it was appropriate for him to do all the work. She put the wine and dressing back into the refrigerator, then opened the dishwasher.
“You don’t have to rinse them off. Just load ’em up,” she offered, eager to hurry him along. “But really, I can finish up here. You have a long drive back to Austin.”
“I can’t leave you with a sink full of dirty dishes. That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.”
And Lori suspected that Justin was always a gentleman. Shit!
They finished cleaning up, again working well as a team. As Lori put the last glass away, Justin wiped his hands and hung the towel on a hook.
“I guess I’d better get going,” he said. “Thanks for the meal.”
“Thanks for not making me eat alone,” she answered sincerely. Somehow since she knew Mark was dead, the house seemed bigger and emptier when her daughter was gone. There were creaks and thumps she’d never noticed before. It was as if once Mark’s bones were relocated, his spirit had moved into the house. She didn’t really believe in ghosts. On the other hand, the last thing she wanted was to find out they existed by meeting one in the hallway.
Justin took his gun off the refrigerator and reholstered it. “An official report will be issued, probably tomorrow, by the ME, so it will likely hit the newspapers on Wednesday. You’re going to be inundated with reporters this week. I wouldn’t recommend you talk to them just yet. Do you have anyone to hold them back?”
She exhaled a deep breath. “Wow, good point. I’ll call my attorney first thing. She’ll be able to handle them. But…won’t that make me look guilty?” Lori knew she was a suspect, but she didn’t want to do anything that would cause extra attention. She hoped that by cooperating, she would help solve the case before it came down to her being hauled away in handcuffs in front of Mackenzie.
Justin shrugged. “It might, but it would be a smart move. He was silent for a moment, and Lori waited, knowing there would be more. “When did you hire her?” he inquired casually.
She sighed, wishing they could have a conversation for longer than five minutes without the interrogation. But then, maybe that’s all that was holding them together. The silly schoolgirl tingles she felt around him could just be because he was a virile male and not because there was any kind of genuine attraction. “When Mark disappeared, someone told me that I should get my own attorney…so I did. I needed someone to look after my best interests in the divorce,” Lori answered, suddenly feeling very tired. “Casey’s been with me for eight years now.”
“Casey Willows? She’s sharp. Maybe she knows the name of a good PR person. Ask her about that.”
“I’ll do that.” Lori frowned. “Casey has been trying to get me to file a petition with the court for a declaration of death.”
Justin’s expression didn’t change, but Lori could tell he was watching her closely as he asked, “Why didn’t you?”
Lori lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. “Because I thought he was alive and well, enjoying his new life without the responsibility of a wife and daughter and winery.”
His eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. I believe you, and I want to help. But my job is to gather all the facts so we can find out who killed Mark.”
She continued to meet his gaze. Unless he was a really good liar, she bought his story. “So tell me, why are the Texas Rangers handling Mark’s…murder?”
“Two reasons. First, it’s an eight-year-old open case. There is no statute of limitations on murder. Second, the county doesn’t have the resources to handle a complicated case like this. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering why the sheriff isn’t involved.”
“He’s involved; he’s just not taking the lead. I’ll spend time with him, your neighbors, your staff…and you until we find whoever did this.”
“Good. Although Mark probably deserved it.”
“I’ve never had the spouse of a victim say that before.”
She rubbed her hand across her forehead. “It’s been such a long haul since he went missing, and now there’s closure. Well, sort of. I really do hope you catch whoever did this.”
“I should go.” He headed toward the front door and took his hat off the rack. “I’ll call and set up another time to come back out and interview you and your staff formally. I’ll get a better idea from the ME probably tomorrow, then I’ll let you know when they can release the remains.”
She flinched. “I’ll start the arrangements for the funeral. I expect you’ll want to come. Who knows who will show up.”
“The odds are the killer will be there.” He put his hat on, tipped his head, and smiled. “Good night, Mrs. Roberts.”
“I thought we were past that.” Lori was disappointed that after the comfortable, casual evening, they had fallen back to formalities.
He opened the door and stepped out but turned back toward her. “Lori.” His lips lifted into a charmingly crooked grin.