Men to Trust: Boss Man / The Last Good Man in Texas / Lonetree Ranchers: Brant

“Anyway, Julie attacked Libby and Jordan didn’t stand up for her. Jordan made some nasty remarks to Libby.” He shrugged. “I’m not working for any man who bad-mouths my sister.”

“I don’t blame you one bit. Poor Libby!”

“She can take care of herself on good days,” he said. “But Julie has some unsavory friends. Sadly for her, she walked into Kemp’s office while Libby was there.”

“Excuse me?”

He smiled. “You don’t know, do you? There’s bad blood between Kemp and Julie. She had a party at her house eight years ago and invited Shannon Culbertson, who was all but engaged to Kemp at the time. There was a rivalry between Shannon and Julie for a class office at school. Somebody put something in Shannon’s drink. She died. Julie got the office.”

“She was poisoned?” Violet exclaimed, fascinated by this private look at her taciturn boss’s life. So he had a woman in his past after all. Was that why he didn’t have much to do with women now? It made her sad to think there was another woman in his life, even a ghost. How could a living woman compete with a perfect memory?

“She wasn’t poisoned. She had a hidden heart condition,” he corrected. “Anyway, she died. Kemp never got over it. He did his best to have Julie tried for it, but her father had plenty of money and plenty of influence. It was listed as a tragic accident with no explanation, and the case was closed. Kemp would hang Julie if he could ever find an excuse to get her in court.” He leaned forward. “Just between you and me, that might happen. Senator Merrill got busted for drunk driving. Now he and his nephew the mayor are trying to get the arresting officers fired—and Chief Cash Grier, too.”

Violet’s mind had to jump-shift back to the subject at hand. She was still taking in Kemp’s secret past, one that she hadn’t even expected. “That’ll be the day, when Chief Grier will let his officers go down the drain without a fight.”

“Exactly what most of us think,” Curt said. “Grier is hell on drug traffickers. Which brings to mind one other rumor that’s going around—that Julie has her finger in a nasty white powder distribution network.”

Violet whistled. “Some news!”

“Keep it to yourself, too,” he admonished. “But the point of the thing is, I was without a job and Duke said I could work for him.”

“Welcome aboard, as one refugee to another.”

“That’s right, you and Kemp had a mixer, too, didn’t you?” He smiled wryly. “Libby told me,” he added when she looked surprised. “But I heard it from three other people as well. You don’t keep secrets in a town like Jacobsville. We’re all one big family. We know all about each other.”

She smiled. “I suppose we do.”

“How’s your mother taking the exhumation?”

The smile faded. “She says it’s not bothering her, but I know it is. She’s very old-fashioned about things like that.”

He looked angry. “We feel the same way. But we had to let them exhume Dad, too. Nobody wants Janet to walk away from another murder.”

“That’s how Mama and I feel,” Violet agreed. “But it really is hard. Have you heard anything yet?”

He shook his head. “They say the results will take time. The state crime lab is backed up, so it won’t be a quick process. That will make it worse, I guess.”

She nodded. “But we’ll get through it, won’t we?” she added.

He smiled at her determination. “You bet we will.”

Blake Kemp was fuming. He’d been so busy with work that he’d forgotten the exhumations until Libby had actually asked him about them. He’d promised her that he’d get right on it. But the disturbing news had nothing to do with possible murders. It had to do with the fact that Curt Collins, Libby’s brother, was taking Violet to Calhoun Ballenger’s volunteer staff meeting at his ranch on the following Saturday.

He’d been worried about Violet letting Duke Wright turn her head, and here she was going on a date with a very eligible, upstanding member of a founding family of Jacobsville, Texas. Even Kemp couldn’t claim descent from old John Jacobs himself. Duke might have a lot of warts, but Curt was a fine young man with a promising future. And Violet was going to date him.

He didn’t understand his own violent opposition to that pairing. Violet was nothing to him, after all. She was just his ex-secretary. He had no right to care if she had a private life.

But he did care. The thought of her with Curt made him uneasy. He knew Calhoun Ballenger from years past. He frequently handled cases for him. He admired and respected the local feedlot owner. There was no reason he couldn’t get himself invited to that meeting. He just wanted to make sure Violet didn’t do something stupid, like falling into Curt’s arms at the first opportunity. It was his duty to protect her. Sort of. He picked up the phone and dialed Calhoun’s number, refusing to consider his motives in any personal way.

The meeting was riotous. There were people gathered around the big recreation room that Kemp hadn’t seen face-to-face in years. Some were frankly a surprise, because at least two of the county’s biggest Republican contributors were in the front row.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Police Chief Cash Grier asked him with a grin, noting the direction Kemp was staring. “Ballenger’s crossing party lines all over the place. He’s well-known in cattlemen’s circles, and locally he’s the original hometown boy who came out of poverty to become a millionaire. He did it without any under-the-table dealings as well, I hear.”

“That’s right,” Kemp told him. “Calhoun and his brother, Justin, were the poorest kids around. They made their fortunes honestly. They both married well, too.”

“Calhoun’s wife was his ward, they say,” Grier mused.

“Yes, and Justin married a direct descendant of Big John Jacobs, the founder of Jacobsville. Between them, they’ve got six boys. Not a girl in either family.”

At the mention of children, Grier became quiet. He and his houseguest, Tippy Moore, a rising movie star, had lost their baby just before Tippy’s little brother was kidnapped and held for ransom. Tippy had traded herself for him, an act of courage that still made Grier proud. Their relationship was rocky even now, and Tippy was a potential victim of one of the kidnappers who’d eluded police in Manhattan.

Kemp glanced at him, aware of the older man’s discomfort. “Sorry,” he murmured. He knew about the baby because the story, a false and very unflattering one, had played out in the tabloids when Tippy had miscarried.

Grier let out a long breath. “I never knew I wanted kids,” he said quietly, not meeting Kemp’s gaze. “Hell of a way to find out I did.”

“Life evens out,” Kemp said philosophically. “You have bad days, then you have good ones to make up for them.”

Grier’s dark eyes twinkled. “I’m due about two years of good days.”

Kemp laughed without humor. “Aren’t we all?”

Grier’s attention was captured by someone behind Kemp. He pursed his lips. “Your ex-secretary sure has changed.”

Kemp was aware of his heart jumping at the statement. He turned his head and there was Violet. But she looked very different. She was wearing a neat little black skirt with a dropped-waist blue top that was cut modestly low in front. Her hair was around her shoulders, but it had frosted tips. She looked ten pounds lighter, and very pretty.

She noticed Kemp and her heart raced. Beside her Curt was watching the byplay with amusement, because Kemp couldn’t seem to help staring any more than Violet could.

“I need to talk to someone,” he told Violet. “Can you manage without me for a few minutes?”

“Yes!” She curbed her enthusiasm. “I mean, yes, that would be all right, Curt. Thanks.”

He chuckled, winked at her, and strolled off.

Kemp walked up to her. He was dressed in an open-necked shirt with a sports coat and navy slacks. He looked expensive, sophisticated, and good enough to eat. Violet could hardly keep her eyes off him.

He was having a similar problem. It was odd how much Violet had been on his mind lately. He saw her in the office even when she wasn’t there. He’d been uneasy since he’d seen her at her mother’s house, and they’d parted on a harsh note.

“Still like working for Duke?” he queried stiffly.

She shrugged. “It’s a job.”

His eyebrow jerked. “Your hair looks nice,” he murmured, reaching out to take a strand of it in his strong fingers. “I don’t like frosting as a rule, but it suits you. You’ve lost more weight, too, haven’t you?”

“It may look like it, but I haven’t really,” she replied, lost in a haze because of contact with him. “I’ve just been learning how to dress to make the most of what I have.”

His eyes slid up to meet hers. “That’s what life is all about, Violet,” he said gently. “Learning how to make do with what we’re given. You don’t need to lose any more weight. You look great.”

She flushed and smiled radiantly. “Do you…really think so?”