you my father’s stamp collection for safekeeping.” She flushed again. “She was going to sell it. She’d already thrown away all his stuff. He and I worked on the stamp collection together as long as I can remember. It’s all I have left of him.” She swallowed. Hard.
Cash got up. He towered over her. He wasn’t laughing. “You bring it in here and I’ll put it in the safe,” he said gently. “Nobody will touch it.”
“Thanks.” She was trying not to cry. “That’s so kind...”
“Now, don’t cry or you’ll have me in tears. What would people think? I mean, I’m a big, tough cop. I can’t be seen standing around sobbing all over the place. Crime would flourish!”
That amused her. She stopped biting her lip and actually grinned.
“That’s better.” His black eyes narrowed quizzically. “Your stepmother seems to have some issues. I got an earful from your minister this morning.”
She nodded sadly. “She was so different when we lived in San Antonio. I mean, we went shopping together, we took turns cooking. Then we moved down here and she got mixed up with that Bert person.” She shivered. “He gives me cold chills, but she’s crazy about him.”
“Bert Sims?” Cash asked in a deceptively soft tone.
“That’s him.”
Cash didn’t say anything else. “If things get rough over there, call me, will you? I know you’re outside the city limits, but I can get to Hayes Carson pretty quick if I have to, and he has jurisdiction.”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that....”
“Isn’t it?” Cash asked.
She felt chilled. It was as if he was able to see Roberta through her eyes, and he saw everything.
“She did apologize. Sort of. For hitting me, I mean.”
“Hitting you?” Cash stood straighter. “When?”
“I messed up the sale of Daddy’s stamps. She was wild-eyed and screaming. She just slapped me, is all. She’s been excitable since before Daddy died, but now she’s just...just...nuts. She talks about money all the time, like she’s dying to get her hands on some. But she doesn’t buy clothes or cosmetics, she doesn’t even dress well anymore.”
“Do you know why?”
She shook her head. She drew in a breath. “She doesn’t drink,” she said. “I know that’s what you’re thinking. She and Daddy used to have drinks every night, and she had a problem for a little while, but she got over it.”
Cash just nodded. “You let me know if things get worse. Okay?”
“Okay, Chief. Thanks,” she added.
The phone rang. Carlie answered it. “It’s your wife,” she said with a big grin.
Cash’s face lit up. “Really? Wow. A big-time movie star calling me up on the phone. I’m just awed, I am.” He grinned. Everybody knew his wife, Tippy, had been known as the Georgia Firefly when she’d been a supermodel and, later, an actress. “I’ll take it in my office. With the door closed.” He made a mock scowl. “And no eavesdropping.”
Carlie put her hand over her heart. “I swear.”
“Not in my office, you don’t,” he informed her. “Swearing is a misdemeanor.”
She stuck out her tongue at his departing back.
“I saw that,” he said without looking behind him. He went into his office and closed the door on two giggling women.
“He’s a trip to work for,” Carlie enthused, her green eyes sparkling in a face framed by short, dark, wavy hair. “I was scared to death of him when I interviewed for the job. At least, until he accused me of hiding his bullets and telling his men that he read fashion magazines in the bathroom.”
Michelle laughed.
“He’s really funny. He says he keeps files on aliens in the filing cabinet and locks it so I won’t peek.” The smile moderated. “But if there’s an emergency, he’s the toughest guy I’ve ever known. I would never cross him, if I was a criminal.”
“They say he chased a speeder all the way to San Antonio once.”
She laughed. “That wasn’t the chief. That was Kilraven, who worked here undercover.” She leaned forward. “He really belongs to a federal agency. We’re not supposed to mention it.”
“I won’t tell,” Michelle promised.
“However, the chief—” she nodded toward his closed door “—got on a plane to an unnamed foreign country, tossed a runaway criminal into a bag and boated him to Miami. The criminal was part of a drug cartel. He killed a small-town deputy because he thought the man was a spy. He wasn’t, but he was just as dead. Then the feds got involved and the little weasel escaped into a country that didn’t have an extradition treaty with us. However, once he was on American soil, he was immediately arrested by Dade County deputies.” She grinned. “The chief denied ever having seen the man, and nobody could prove that it was him on the beach. And,” she added darkly, “you never heard that from me. Right?”
“Right!”
Carlie laughed. “So what can I do for you?”
“I need a ride home from work.”
“I’ve got another hour to go, but...”
“Not today,” Michelle said. “Starting Monday. Minette Carson just offered me a part-time job, but I don’t have a way to get home. And she said I could work part-time Saturday, but I can’t drive and I don’t have a car.”
“You can ride with me, and I’d welcome the company,” Carlie said easily.
“I’ll chip in for the gas.”
“That would really help! Have you seen what I drive?” She groaned. “My dad has this thing about cars. He thinks you need an old truck to keep you from speeding, so he bought me a twelve-year-old tank. At least, it looks like a tank.” She frowned. “Maybe it was a tank and he had it remodeled. Anyway, it barely gets twelve miles to a gallon and it won’t go over fifty.” She shook her head. “He drives a vintage Ford Cobra,” she added with a scowl. “One of the neatest rides on the planet and I’m not allowed to touch it, can you believe that?”
Michelle just grinned. She didn’t know anything about cars. She did recall the way the minister had peeled out of the driveway, scattering gravel. That car he drove had one big engine.
“Your dad scared my stepmother.” Michelle laughed. “She wasn’t letting me go to church. Your dad said I could ride with you.” She stopped and flushed. “I really feel like I’m imposing. I wish I could drive. I wish I had a car....”
“It’s really not imposing,” Carlie said softly, smiling. “As I said, I’d like the company. I go down lots of back roads getting here from Comanche Wells. I’m not spooky or anything, but this guy did try to kill my Dad with a knife.” She lowered her eyes. “I got in the way.”
Michelle felt guilty that she hadn’t remembered. “I’ll learn karate,” she promised. “We can go to a class together or something, and if anybody attacks us we can fight back!”
“Bad idea,” Cash said, rejoining them. “A few weeks of martial arts won’t make you an expert. Even an expert,” he added solemnly, “knows better than to fight if he can get away from an armed man.”
“That isn’t what the ads say,” Carlie mused, grinning.
“Yes, I know,” Cash replied. “Take it from me, disarming someone with a gun is difficult even for a black belt.” He leaned forward. “Which I am.”
Carlie stood up, bowed deeply from the waist, and said, “Sensei!”