Ross Garrison glanced down. The stack of In boxes was right by his hand. Idly, he ran a finger along the rim of the top box. His watch caught the overhead light and gleamed dully. Silver? No. Platinum. The man actually owned a platinum watch.
Whitehorn, Montana, wasn’t exactly the sleepy cow town it had once been. But platinum watches were still few and far between in those parts.
The lawyer looked up again and into Lynn’s eyes. “I’m just doing my job, Miss Taylor. Working up Jennifer McCallum’s file. With an estate of this size, it’s important that I cover all the bases, get a firm grip on what I’m dealing with here, for the good of my client. In future, decisions will have to be made concerning investments. And also concerning possible changes in the terms of the trust. I want to be sure I approach those decisions with my eyes open. I want, sincerely, to do the best I can by Jennifer. I’ve interviewed her doctor and her adoptive parents in depth and—”
“Now it’s time to talk to her teacher.”
“Exactly.”
They regarded each other across the width of the desk. It was the strangest moment. Perhaps because there seemed to be so much unexplainable tension in it. Or maybe because, for the first time, Lynn felt he was actually looking at her. Closely. Probingly…
“Jenny? You want to know about Jenny?”
Lynn turned at the sound of Sara’s voice. The child stood in the entrance to the coat nook. She had on her red jacket, and clutched her dark blue pack, partially unzipped and hanging open. Inside, Lynn spotted the edge of a hot-pink art supply box—which she knew belonged to Jenny McCallum. Those two were forever trading things. Lynn would bet a gross of number-two pencils that Sara’s neon-yellow art box had gone home in Jenny’s pack.
“That’s right, Sara,” Ross Garrison said. Lynn had to give him credit. She’d said Sara’s name only once—Let Sara close the door—and he had remembered it. “I’m here to learn all I can about Jenny McCallum.” He smiled that too-charming smile of his.
His smile and the sound of her name were all the encouragement Sara needed.
“Jenny is my best friend in the whole, wide world,” she announced. “She’s smart and she has blue eyes and blond hair, just like me. We look like sisters. Everybody says so. And we really like that, because we both wish we had a sister—or even a brother. But we don’t. But Jenny does have a dog. Her name is Sugar. And I want a dog. I really do. A puppy all for my own. And tomorrow night I’m going to Jenny’s house to have a sleepover. Her mom said we might even go out to the ranch—the Kincaid ranch. We might get to pet the barn cats and feed the horses some apples and—”
“Sara.” Lynn pantomimed zipping up her mouth.
Sara got the message. She pressed her cute pink lips together—but then the outside door swung open again and she crowed, “There you are, Mommy!”
Danielle Mitchell slid inside and shut the door. Grinning, she sketched a bow at Lynn. “Your fairy godmother has arrived…and what’s this? Legal troubles?”
“Mrs. Mitchell, how are you?”
“Just fine. And didn’t I tell you to call me Danielle?”
“Yes, you certainly did.”
Lynn glanced from her friend to the lawyer. She hadn’t realized they knew each other. But then again, this was Whitehorn. Everybody knew everybody. It had always been that way.
“So what’s up?” Danielle demanded of Lynn.
Garrison answered for her. “Just gathering information. I’ve been hired to represent the Kincaid estate, and that means Jennifer McCallum is now one of my clients.”
“You’re here to interview Lynn about Jenny?”
“That’s right.”
“And there’s not much to say,” Lynn put in firmly. “Jennifer is doing just fine. She is happy, intelligent, outgoing and unstintingly adored by one and all.”
Garrison gave her the raised eyebrow again. “Unstintingly?”
Lynn felt…irritated, that was it. Irritated by this too-good-looking big-city lawyer, who had waltzed into her classroom, looked around as if he owned the place, acted bored to death at the mention of her sister—who might be a bit flighty, but nonetheless had stars in her eyes when it came to him—and then began giving her the third degree about Jenny. “Yes. That’s what I said. Jenny is unstintingly adored by everyone.”
“My, my,” Danielle muttered under her breath. “Feeling feisty today, aren’t we?”
Lynn shot her friend a quelling glance, then turned on Garrison again. “She’s a lovely child. And one of my two best students—Sara here is the other one.” She glanced at Sara, who granted her a big, proud smile.
Ross Garrison was not smiling. “Miss Taylor. We both know that Jennifer’s been through considerable trauma.”
“Yes. She has. And in my opinion, none of her troubles have damaged her in the least.”
Garrison did not look convinced, but he did allow, “Fine. If you say so.”
“I do.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
Those dark eyes stared into hers again, taking her measure. Lynn stared right back at him. Finally he said, “Listen, I really would like to talk with you in a little more depth about this.”
Danielle chuckled then. “You’ll have to wait your turn, Ross. Lynn’s going to be busy for a while. But you could meet her at the Whitehorn Beauty Salon—say, about five?”
Lynn blinked and whirled on her friend. “The Whitehorn Salon? Wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about taking me there.”
Danielle looked way too pleased with herself. “It was a surprise, remember?”
“But…” Lynn couldn’t help sputtering. “But…the beauty shop? For five hours?”
Danielle waved a hand. “Four and a half, actually. Your appointment’s at twelve-thirty.” She glanced at the clock. “And we’d better get going or we’ll be late.”
“But Danielle—”
The other woman cut her off by speaking to Garrison. “Like I said. Whitehorn Salon. Five o’clock. She’ll be there.”
Lynn sputtered some more. “No. No, wait, I—”
“Five o’clock, then,” said Ross Garrison. And before Lynn could finish objecting, he strode to the door, pushed it open and left in a swirl of brisk autumn air.
Chapter Two
The moment the door closed behind the lawyer, Lynn demanded of her friend, “Why did you tell him where to find me?”
“Why not? He just wants to get up to speed about Jenny.”
“Well, I know, but…”
“But what?” There was a very suspicious gleam in Danielle’s eyes. “Are you scared of him, or something?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, I have to say, sparks certainly seemed to be flying between you two.”