His Texas Touch

Rising to his towering height, he offered a casual shrug. “Depends on how good you are.”

Don’t hit him, she told herself and almost broke the skin in her palms when she drew fists.

“Night, Av.” He brushed his knuckles across her jaw and then walked out the door.

Chapter 1

“You’re crazy if you think I’m just gonna let you drive home after you almost fainted right here in front of me and Brad.” Samson’s face was a picture of exasperation.

Danilo Melendez, owner of the auto-parts-and-

accessories giant Machine Melendez, spat a curse in his native tongue. “Bradley saw no need to call the paramedics before he left. You, however, are acting like a mother hen and I’m fine!”

“Pop, you almost—”

“I’m fine.”

Raising both hands in a defensive gesture, Sam stifled his reference to his father’s reaction. “Maybe you’d like to tell me what’s so special about Martino Viejo?”

Dan’s expression appeared vicious as he observed his eldest son. “Have you no respect for the dead?”

“Pop, you know that’s not—”

“I won’t have you question my concern for another human being—an employee at that. Am I understood?”

Sam looked down at the invisible pattern he traced into the top of his pine desk. “Who was he, Pop?” Sam rolled his eyes as Danilo began to rattle off a profile that he himself could have gotten from the Melendez HR department.

Following the brief rundown into Martino Viejo’s career with Machine Melendez, Dan bade his son a good-afternoon and made a hasty departure from the ranch. Sam made no argument and simply placed a call to the home of his assistant, June Elliott.

“Did you know him?” Sam was asking once he’d greeted the woman and engaged in a few moments of idle chatter. Sam couldn’t decide whether he was pleased to have the information or peeved over the fact that the recent murder victim had such an impressive employment reputation and had flown completely below his radar.

“Sounds like he was a golden boy.” Sam settled back into his desk chair when June took the time to breathe amid her rave review.

“Well, the community-relations department was very lucky to have him. All the programs he helped implement…” She sighed. “He did such fine work helping to acclimate MM employees who were also new to the country. He was even instrumental in working with area organizations where focus was on single moms—educating them, preparing them for the workforce, providing child care…”

“Hell.” Sam propped one elbow on the desk chair and massaged his forehead. “June—he’s dead.”

“What?” The woman’s already soft voice had taken on an even softer current. “Was this connected to all the others…? Of course it was,” she answered herself.

Sam’s expression remained grim but he appreciated his assistant’s quick mind.

“What’s happening, Sam? Are we going to have to dismiss all of our immigrant workers in order to protect them?”

“I don’t think we’ll have to go that far, June.” At least I hope we won’t. Sam groaned inwardly. “Can you get me the names of all the newest immigrant employees?”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“And, June? Keep as much of a lid on this as you can, all right?”

“I understand.” June’s words came through the line following a brief silence.

“I’m sure the cops’ll be round there soon enough. With any luck we’ll have the chance to formally address the crowd before that.”

“Does your father know?”

“He does. He’s not a happy man.” Or a well man. Sam made yet another silent observation but shook it off. “I appreciate this, June.”

“Take care, Sam.”

Once the call with June ended, Sam went right ahead and made contact with his brothers. During the conference call with Paolo and Lugo Melendez, he broke the news about Martino Viejo.

“Does Pop know?” Lugo asked.

“Yeah…” Sam swiveled his chair to take in the massive rear expanse of his ranch several miles outside Houston. “He wouldn’t even let me talk to him about it. We need to check out this Viejo—beyond his job responsibilities. Maybe everything Pop wouldn’t tell me is wrapped up in this guy.”

“You think it’s wise to go behind Pop’s back on this, Sam?” Paolo decided to play devil’s advocate.

Sam had no desire to tangle with Danilo. “The cops are damn well gonna find somethin’. Pop knows it. I could see it on his face when Brad told us about Viejo. If all this could damage Pop or the business, we need to do all we can to get ahead of it.”

“So what’s our next move?” Lugo asked.

“I’ve got June pullin’ all the files for the new immigrant employees. Maybe we can find some kind of connection the cops haven’t stumbled onto yet.”

“They’re not idiots, Sam.” Again Paolo played the advocate. “They already found out all the vics shared the same address.”

“An address nobody can find,” Lugo reminded his big brother.

“It’s the only real clue they have. I still hope it’ll lead somewhere—pun intended,” Sam said.

Lugo sighed. “I pray it’s anywhere except back to us.”

“Amen,” Paolo muttered.

“Chances are it’ll all lead back to us.” Sam took his turn at playing devil’s advocate.

“What are you sayin’?”

“You know exactly what, Pow. Papa didn’t make his money by bein’ Texas’s most upstanding citizen. We all know he’s got skeletons in his closet.”

“Then what do we do when it leads back to us?” Lugo queried.

“Pray.” Sam’s voice sounded monotone and grim. “Pray it doesn’t ruin us all.”

* * *

Paul Tristam entered his boss’s office carefully, as if he expected something to be thrown at his head. Avra had been even more demanding than usual. The funny thing was he didn’t think her mood had anything to do with the Ross Review.

He’d brought in a tray laden with her favorite tea and Danish. His plan was to relax her while trying to probe into what was going on with her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her across the room on the sofa. Papers of all shapes, sizes and colors were spread about her. His voice of reason told him to set the tray down and go. He only half listened. He set down the tray and then crossed the room to her.