Heather nodded her approval as she led Steve to a booth in a newly remodeled restaurant that boasted spotless tables and a smiling hostess. Mariachi music came from speakers in the ceiling, loud enough to enjoy but not overpowering like in some dining rooms. As usual, she chose a booth and put herself where she'd have the best view of the room. A dark-haired beauty arrived promptly with a single menu. Most servers missed the fact that placing a menu before Steve was a waste of time. With two orders for iced tea committed to memory, the server scurried away.
"Do you know what you want, or do I need to read the menu to you?"
"Get me one of everything. The cinnamon roll is a distant memory."
"Tuck your napkin in your shirt. She's coming back with drinks and chips."
Steve did as instructed, and Heather pointed at a spot in front of him for the server to place the basket of chips and a small bowl of what looked like pureed tomatoes, cilantro, onions and minute chunks of jalapenos.
He found the chips on the first try, but reached too far to the left for the salsa. After easing his hand to the right, he located the bowl and dipped his first chip of what Heather knew would be most of the basket.
"You'd better bring us some extra napkins," said Heather. "I'm still training him to dip and not scoop."
The server giggled and padded off.
After stuffing three more chips in his mouth, Steve said, "Surprise me. Order whatever looks good."
Heather studied the menu. "How does a fried avocado, stuffed with shrimp and cheese sound? It comes with rice, refried beans, and a chalupa."
"Throw on an enchilada or two."
Heather noticed an order being delivered to a nearby table. The generous portions told her Steve would be more than full with one extra enchilada. She spotted a salad topped with sizzling fajita meat that came in a bowl the diameter of a medium pizza. The menu went to the edge of the table.
Steve continued to reduce the stack of chips but spoke between bites. "Tell me about your trip to Montana."
"Something’s fishy up there, and it’s not rainbow trout. I think the mine could be on its way out, but that's not what the results of the drill holes say."
"Keep talking."
Heather explained the reduced usage of electricity, increased housing availability, and how much diesel fuel is being delivered as compared to past months and years.
"That doesn't sound good," said Steve. "Have you told your father?"
A deep sigh escaped. "He dismissed the facts I uncovered. If it had been Webster bringing him the information, it would have been a different story."
"Who's Webster?"
"Father's personal assistant and the son he never had."
"Ah."
"Yeah, 'Ah.' I think Father was grooming him to take over the company until I came back in the picture." Heather sensed her face warming, and the salsa wasn't to blame. "Father said he and Webster had already discussed the issues I brought up and there were logical explanations for them." She took a drink of iced tea and smoothed the napkin on her lap. "I sort of lost my temper and told Father I was going out on my own. I'm wiring him the money for the full price of the airplane tomorrow morning."
"Ouch. That was a Christmas present, wasn't it?"
A pang of guilt hit her, but she needed to defend her decision. "It was, and it wasn't. A tax write-off to the company, but Father seemed pleased to give it to me."
Steve stopped eating.
"Did I make a mistake?" asked Heather.
Steve lifted the basket of chips. "Take these away from me or I won’t have room for the main course."
Heather did as asked and waited.
"There are two issues, but they're intertwined. The first is your responsibility to make a sound business decision based on the best information you could gather. He put you in charge of that project, but you didn't see it through to the end."
"He didn't let me. Webster's been in his ear ever since he gave me the assignment."
Steve leaned back. "Do you want me to continue?"
Heather rewound a tape of the conversation with her father in her head. She'd snapped at her father, and now she was doing the same thing to Steve. It was time to muzzle her mouth and listen. "Sorry."
He leaned forward. "If you're right, McBlythe Enterprises stands to lose millions of dollars."
"Hundreds of millions in direct losses and future earnings." She knew that wasn't all. "There's also the loss of reputation. Father doesn't often make mistakes when it comes to something this big."
"And if you're wrong, what happens?"
"The deal will go a competitor, and McBlythe Enterprises will lose out on what Father calls the deal of a lifetime."
"Isn't everything based on projections?" asked Steve.
"Yes, but there's solid science to support them."
"Perhaps. But that's not the point. Your father gave you an assignment and you quit before you completed it."
Her stomach clenched. "That's not fair. He told me he was going ahead with the deal without me."
"And you did what?"
"I quit."
Steve leaned forward more. "You didn't just quit, you lashed out against your father in a way you knew would hurt him."
The words stung, but she knew they were true.
He continued, "The second issue is a bit broader. You're wondering if you'll be happier if you're free from McBlythe Enterprises. That's something to answer on your own. How you handled the gold mine and your decision to cut the business strings from your father's company are two different issues."
"Steve."
"Yes?"
"Your hand is in salsa you spilled on the table."
"I know. I'm going to smear it on my avocado."
The tension broke, but this would be a conversation she’d remember the rest of her life.
The server warned Steve of a hot plate. They ate in silence, except for the multiple moans of delight and comments on the quality of the cuisine. Heather thought the meal would be enough for Steve, but he had other ideas. "Get on your phone. There has to be Dairy Queen in Marble Falls. My sweet tooth is acting up and a strawberry sundae will help put the fire out from the jalapenos I ate."
On the way to town she asked, "Which one of the Voss children do you want to interview first tomorrow?"
"Let's start with Roy. I think that smack in the face might have taken the starch out of him. Let's get him before his defenses rise again."
"Do you want me to do a background check on him?"
"Already done. I'll send you the files I made on each of the Voss clan while you were in Montana."
Heather glanced to her right in time to see him smile. "You've been busy."
"I had time after Bridget Callahan dumped me for a real golfer."
"Are you disappointed?"
"Let's say I'm getting over it fast."
"Who do we talk to after Roy?"
"I thought we'd go for Rance. I'm interested to see if his grief is still as deep after a night's sleep."
"Or lack of sleep," said Heather.
"Right. Then we'll talk to Sue Ann. It seemed a little odd that Grant wasn't with her today."
Heather thought back to the punch she landed. "That wasn't as odd as the way she reacted to Hector's murder. That was an awesome punch. Split the skin on Roy’s cheek bone wide open. He may show up with stitches."
"I didn't have her pegged as being violent," said Steve. "That's a reminder that people do unexpected things under pressure."
"That leaves us with Mae," said Heather. "What do you expect from her tomorrow?"
"More of the same. She's not likely to agree to anything because she's the first in line for the inheritance. I wonder if Charley left her a bigger cut or if he divided everything equally?"
"I guess we'll find out tomorrow."
Steve shook his head. "He gave them five days to decide. Tomorrow starts day five, but it's not complete until 5 p.m. on Tuesday. That's when I'm to receive the second part of the will from a local attorney. Mae won't like it, but that's the least of her problems."
Heather put on the car’s blinker. "What do you mean?"
Steve leaned away as she made a sharp turn and scooted into Dairy Queen's parking lot. He righted himself as he said, "She's swimming with sharks. Lawyers like Patrick Shaw and his bosses will take bites out of her inheritance until there's nothing left. She doesn't know it, but she might be better off if Charley didn't leave her anything."
"Would he do that? Cut one or more of the children out of the will entirely?"
Steve unbuckled his seat belt. "He was a sour man that kept himself to himself. I'm a little surprised he married."
"Speaking of," said Heather. "What was his wife like?"
"I met Pearl a few times. She was more than a decade younger than Charley and wore her blond hair in a ponytail. No makeup, and she liked long skirts and loose blouses. I once noticed a yellow tinge under an eye. I don't think Charley was kind to her."
"Did you do a background check on her?"
Steve reached for the door handle. "I thought I'd leave you something to do."