Only His
Page 29

 Susan Mallery

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She’d stood there, waiting to be killed—ignorant enough to think dying together would be romantic.
She dropped her gaze to her hands again. “There was so much blood,” she whispered. “I didn’t know how much there could be.” She didn’t have to close her eyes to see him lying there on the bank floor. She remembered that someone was screaming and the sound hurt her ears. It had taken so long to realize that person was her.
“They arrested me. My lawyer tried to get me to say it was Ronnie. After all, he was dead and couldn’t say I was lying. But I wouldn’t do it. I told them everything and then I pled guilty. I didn’t want to have to face those people again at trial. I was sentenced and that was it.”
She shifted on the chair, fighting tears. “Sandy came to see me. She was heartbroken. She kept saying it was her fault and I had to tell her it wasn’t and I was so afraid she would abandon me, but she didn’t. Not even when they sent me away.”
Finally she looked at him. His face was carefully blank, his eyes expressionless. Better than jumping to his feet and calling her a murderer, she supposed, but not by much.
“They sentenced me to twelve years. I served nine. I was twenty-seven when I got out. That was nearly ten years ago. Sandy was sick and I stayed with her for the next couple of years, taking care of her until she died. She left me everything. I sold her little house and took the money and somehow found Fool’s Gold. I bought this place.”
She folded her arms over her chest again. “If I could take it back, I would. If I could give up my life so Ronnie didn’t have to die like that… Such a waste for both of us. We were kids, but we still should have known better. I know I was lucky. The bank manager was shot but recovered and I had Sandy looking out for me. She never gave up on me. I don’t know why. Anyone else would have walked away.”
She paused, hoping he would say something. He didn’t. Feeling uncomfortable, she added, “I learned my lesson. Obviously. Everything is different now, but I still carry that with me.”
“I can see why.” He rolled off the opposite side of the bed and started dressing.
She stood, careful to put the chair between them. Instinctively she knew she was going to need protection.
He pulled on jeans, then dragged on his sweatshirt. Finally he looked at her and swore. “I thought you’d been with some guy who beat you. I thought you were a Mafia princess or some crap like that.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t let him know how his words cut through her.
“You don’t have some noble past,” he growled. “You’re a criminal. An innocent man could have died because of you. A guilty man did die. That’s not anything I want to be a part of.”
He stepped into his boots, grabbed his jacket and was gone. Seconds later, she heard the front door slam and the uneven sound of his footsteps on the stairs.
She began to shiver. Not that the room was chilly. Instead the cold came from inside. It swept through her until she trembled so much she could barely stand.
She’d known what would happen if she ever told the truth. Known how it would end. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised.
Tears filled her eyes. As she brushed them away she wondered if she would ever get to leave her past behind. Not that she wanted to forget. She would pay for what she’d done for the rest of her life and she deserved that. But somewhere along the line she’d changed, and she’d hoped that her future might change, too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CONSTRUCTION SITE was pure chaos. Tucker stood beside the trailer and stared at what had once been a relatively quiet, orderly work area. Now there were police, state troopers, private security and tourists everywhere. The cleared area by the mountain had become a makeshift parking lot that overflowed with cars and trucks. Heidi Simpson had set up a stand selling her goat cheese, along with water, soda and sandwiches. He understood the need for everyone to make a profit, but wished they would all go away and leave him alone.
He felt his phone buzz in his shirt pocket and pulled it out.
“Janack,” he said.
“You’ve made it to CNN,” his father said. “I can’t decide if I’m proud or horrified.”
“Let me know when you decide,” Tucker told him. “I know where I stand.”
He went into the trailer so he could hear more easily, and shut the door behind him.
His father chuckled. “I can hear it in your voice, son. Bad?”
Tucker slumped into his chair. “I keep telling myself it could be worse. At least the find is at the far end of the site, just past our property line. We’re not legally involved. As soon as the gold is taken away, things will quiet down. In the meantime, we’re moving our equipment and men as far away as possible.”
“Sounds like you have it under control.”
“Nevada does. She volunteered to coordinate with the town on this.”
“Always good having a local around.”
“It is,” he said absently, thinking Nevada’s value went past simply being local.
He and his father talked about the job itself, and how long Tucker expected to stay ahead of schedule.
“Need me to fly in?” his father asked.
“I’ve got it covered.”
“I know that, son. Keep me in the loop. Talk to you soon.”
They hung up.
Tucker eyed the door, not wanting to go back outside, but knowing he had to. He’d barely walked down the steps when Nevada appeared at his side.
“Okay,” she said, her eyes bright with amusement. “The archaeological team is on its way. Jerry radioed that their bus was coming up the road.”
She motioned for Tucker to follow her to the lunch table where the guys ate. She pulled two pieces of paper out of her back pocket and spread them out.
“It will take us half a day to clear a temporary road through here.” She pointed to the sketch she’d made. “I think it’s worth it. We can move the equipment we need more quickly that way, and get right to work.”
“What about that mess?” he asked, pointing behind them.
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll have this under control by tomorrow.”
“Impossible.”
She laughed. “Trust me, Tucker. I grew up as one of six kids. This is nothing. I’m used to bedlam and anarchy. It would go faster if my mom were here, but I can do it by myself.”
She continued to outline her plan, which was impressive. His father was right—having a local around helped. Tucker knew he was lucky to have her. And not just on the job site. She was an unexpected pleasure of being in Fool’s Gold.
While he didn’t believe in his father’s choice of having women all over the world, Tucker hadn’t lived the last ten years as a monk. There had been plenty of short-term, casual relationships. They’d been as easy to start as they had been to end. Almost from the beginning, he’d known they wouldn’t work out, for an assortment of reasons.
With Nevada it was different. She understood his work and she understood him. They could talk about anything and spend long periods of time together. He trusted her, which wasn’t something he often found.
“So?” she asked. “Do I have your approval?”
“And my gratitude.”
“You can give me a small but tasteful present later.”
Her impish smile made him want to pull her against him and give her that present now. But this wasn’t the time or place.
Yet another car drove up, but this one made him groan. He recognized the lettering on the side.
“Police Chief Alice Barns,” he muttered. “She brought the summons last time she was here. Do you think the city council is demanding our presence again?”
Before Nevada could answer, the police chief walked up. Tucker eyed her but didn’t see any paperwork. That was something.
“Morning,” Chief Barns said. “I’m letting you know that the extra security will be here for as long as it takes.” She smiled. “I’m sure that makes you happy.”
“My heart is beating faster as we speak,” Tucker muttered. “Do we have an estimated time of completion?”
The police chief jerked her thumb toward the parking lot, where a battered van had pulled in.
“You can ask them. I have a list of their names. Want a copy?”
“No.” He planned to be at the other end of the site until all this blew over. The idea of a hundred acres between him and them made him a happy guy.
“I’ll take it,” Nevada said. “I’ll want to check their IDs, too, to make sure we don’t have any treasure hunters muscling in. This find is part of Fool’s Gold’s history. No one is going to steal it on my watch.”
“That’s my girl,” the police chief said approvingly.
Tucker watched as a half dozen or so khaki-wearing archaeologist types got out of the van. Most had on backpacks and carried tools and water bottles. One of the women walked toward him. She was tall, with dark hair and bangs.
Her gaze settled on him. “Tucker Janack?” she asked. “I’m Piper Tate.”
They shook hands.
“I’ve worked with contractors before,” she said. “I know you want us off-site as quickly as possible. We want that, too. Our priority is the find and keeping it safe. We’ll set up a round-the-clock team. Artifacts will go more quickly than human remains. Be grateful you didn’t unearth a skeleton.”
“Lucky me.”
She gave a few more specifics. He noticed the police chief ducking out when the conversation got technical and wanted to go with her. Instead he nodded through a discussion of removing and cataloging artifacts and the rigorous designs of the boxes they would be using to transport everything.
When Piper finally excused herself to go join the others, Tucker saw that Nevada was laughing.
“What?”
“You’ve got to learn to fake it better,” she told him. “You were obviously bored.”
“It was a boring topic. I’m here to build something, not deal with old statues.”
“I know someone who needs a little time on a backhoe.”
That did sound good, he thought. “I’m still stuck on what would have happened if we’d found a body.”
“Go.” She pushed him toward his truck. “I’ll deal with this.”
“Okay. Check in with me every couple of hours.”
“I will.”
He pulled his keys out of his pocket and had nearly made it to his truck when a familiar dark sedan pulled up next to the police chief’s car.
“Sorry,” Nevada whispered as Mayor Marsha got out.
Tucker hung his head. This was not his day.
He waited for the inevitable scolding as the mayor approached. A woman he didn’t know exited the passenger side of the car.
“Annabelle,” Nevada said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Annabelle was petite, with red hair. She looked uncomfortable as she glanced around.
“I have a minor in tribal studies,” she said with a sigh. “I specialized in the Máa-zib tribe. Somehow Mayor Marsha found out.”
The old woman knew everything, Tucker thought. She must have some kind of network in town.
“I want Annabelle to keep an eye on the archaeology team,” the mayor said briskly. “My office is fielding dozens of calls from museums all over the country and a few from Central America. Everyone wants to know about the find and some are even trying to put in a claim.” She smoothed the front of her suit. “Of course the Máa-zib lived here, so we’ll have a say in what happens to the artifacts. The Smithsonian called. I tried to interest them in Ms. Stoicasescu’s giant vagina, but they passed.”
“I would have liked to have heard that conversation,” Tucker said in a low voice.
Nevada elbowed him in the ribs.
Mayor Marsha narrowed her gaze. “What are you doing today, Mr. Janack?” she asked.
“Getting on with building. Nevada is coordinating with everyone up there.” He pointed to the crowd swarming the side of the mountain.
The mayor shook her head. “I’m getting too old for this,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s time to retire.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Nevada told her. “Come on. We’ll go see if you can taste some goat cheese.”
The three women walked toward Heidi’s stand on the edge of the parking lot. Tucker edged toward his truck. As he reached it, Nevada glanced back at him and grinned.
He climbed inside, thinking that it was nice for someone to have his back. Later, he would be sure to return the favor.
TUCKER FINISHED HIS WORKDAY hot, sweaty and in a much better mood than he’d started. He didn’t even care about all the cars, the archaeologists picking over the site or the gaggle of security guards rushing around everywhere. He was going back to the hotel, where he would shower, then head over to Nevada’s place and spend the evening with her.
He stepped into the trailer to check his email, only to find Will looking for him. He hadn’t seen the man all day and, staring at him, he knew why. Will looked haggard. His skin was pale, his eyes bloodshot. He obviously hadn’t slept. Slumped shoulders emphasized that whatever it was, it was bad.
“What happened?” Tucker demanded. “Who died?”
“No one.” Will looked at him. “I want to transfer to another job. I don’t care where. I need to get out of here.”
There was only one reason for a man to look like that and want to leave town, Tucker thought grimly. And that reason was a woman.