Lone Star Bachelor

The Red River Roost, a long, old-fashioned strip motel complete with a rooster perched in crowing posture above the flashing vacancy sign, looked a little tired but offered extended stays for a price that fit Jade’s expense budget. Dale Trentworth, owner of Paris Investigations, squeezed every penny and expected his employees to do the same.

Jade knew all about pinching pennies, and the River Roost, as the manager called the place, wasn’t too bad. Located in a residential area on the far side of Gabriel’s Crossing, the place should be quiet and restful, and that was all she required.

She pulled her Chevy into the spot in front of Unit Three and got out, peeling off her jacket as she approached her room. To say she was sweltering in this black suit would be a gross understatement. She was a cooked goose, a roasted duck, a rabbit on a spit baking in the Texas sun. Sweaty and sticky, though the day was young, she tossed the jacket over her elbow.

She knew better than to wear black this time of year, but she’d wanted to appear professional and in control. If she’d arrived at Sawyer Buchanon’s house in a dress and spiky heels, he might have turned on the charm and distracted her from her questions. Not that he hadn’t tried anyway. The man was a born flirt.

She had not been moved. Not one bit.

Well, perhaps a little, but she’d handled him and his charisma. Even if the picture of his too-handsome face kept flashing behind her eyes, she was proud of her cool, competent reaction.

Now that she’d established her professionalism and complete lack of interest in Mr. Playboy Buchanon, the black had to go.

A glance at her cell phone indicated plenty of time to change before her next appointment.

What she wouldn’t give to slip into comfortable jeans and a cool tank top, but first impressions mattered in this business. To be taken seriously, she had to work harder than a man. A glance in the mirror wasn’t required to remind her of how she looked. Petite. Fragile. An easy mark.

She was neither fragile nor easy, not anymore. But her size wasn’t likely to change, and unless she succumbed to plastic surgery. Neither was her baby-doll face.

Well, she was no baby doll. Sawyer Buchanon and his kind better understand that from the get-go.

She was tough and determined.

Fishing for her key, she glanced around, taking mental snapshots of her surroundings. Police work had taught her to be always on the alert, though Gabriel’s Crossing, Texas, was about as calm and peaceful a place as she could think of.

Yet someone had sabotaged the Buchanons’ work projects. Bad things happened in small towns, only on a lesser scale.

The small motel was sparsely populated this weekday morning. Beneath the awning in front of the office sat a battered green pickup truck with a riding lawn mower in the bed. From somewhere nearby, she smelled the clean, fresh aroma of cut grass.

A gray late-model Hyundai was parked in front of Unit Eight and a cleaning cart sat outside Unit Seven. Out on the street, a black SUV motored slowly past, tires hissing against the hot pavement.

A few doors up at Unit One, a young strawberry blonde exited her room, a chubby-cheeked baby on her hip. Her gaze caught Jade’s. She looked worried, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, brow furrowed beneath wispy bangs. She also looked like a kid, sixteen, seventeen at the most.

Watchful but concerned, too, Jade offered a smile. “Cute baby.”

Babies got to her in a big way. She’d wanted two or three. Cam hadn’t wanted any. He’d made that painfully clear.

The teenager shifted the baby on her hip. “Thanks. Say hi, Ashton.”

She lifted the baby’s little hand and waved. Jade waved back, and the friendliness must have been the encouragement the girl needed. She glanced toward the parking lot, squared her shoulders and walked the few feet to Jade’s door.

Glad she hadn’t unlocked her unit, Jade took the girl’s measure. She was an inch or two taller than Jade and too thin, her pale skin devoid of makeup. Dressed in jean shorts and a pink T-shirt, she wore cheap flip-flops and had a pink Cupid’s heart tattooed on top of her left foot. No other obvious identifying marks.

Jade relaxed. The girl presented no threat that she could detect. She was just a friendly, nervous teenager with a baby wearing only a disposable diaper.

“I was wondering.” The girl darted a worried glance at Jade but quickly looked down at her shoes. “I need a ride. Ashton’s out of diapers and...” She let the words trail away.

“You don’t have a car?”

The red-blond ponytail swished from side to side. “No.”

A dozen questions flashed through Jade’s mind. Where was this girl’s family? What was she doing in a motel? Was she alone?

She caught on the last one. “Are you staying here by yourself?”

“Me and Ashton.” The girl focused on the baby and then on Jade. She licked her lips and swallowed.

Nervous. Embarrassed.

Jade logged every movement, assessing. As a cop, she’d dealt with plenty of runaways. Was this another?

“Where do you live?”

The girl shrugged, but her face flushed crimson. “We got kicked out and moved here.”

“Kicked out of where?” Jade was being nosy but this girl had asked for a ride. No harm in requesting information in exchange.

“My mom’s place. She let me stay for a while after I had Ashton, but—well, money’s tight and she has her own problems. She said it was time for us to take care of ourselves.”

Nice family. “You have no one else? What about the baby’s father?”

The girl rolled her eyes and made a rueful sound. “He skipped out a looong time ago.”

The baby started to fuss and squirm in his mother’s arms. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Instinctively, Jade reached out and grasped the little guy’s thrashing arm and wiggled it.

“Are you too hot, precious?” she crooned. “You sure are a handsome boy.”

The baby quieted instantly, his big brown eyes latched onto her face.

“I think he likes you,” the girl said hopefully.

Jade laughed, itching to hold him as she made a quick decision. Walking half a mile to the nearest store for diapers would be miserable for both mom and baby.

“What’s your name?”

“Bailey.”

“Okay, Bailey. I’m Jade. I need to change clothes but I won’t be long. Fifteen minutes or so, maybe. Take the baby back to your room and stay cool. I’ll knock on the door when I’m ready and I’ll drive you down to the Dollar Store.”

Relief washed over the girl like a sudden summer rain. “Thank you so much. I can’t pay you but—”

Jade waved her off. The girl probably didn’t have two extra nickels. “I’m glad to do it. Ashton is adorable.”

And you break my heart.

The key caught and Jade entered the small motel room, grateful for the blast of cool air chugging from the wall unit.

The room was clean, but that was about all she could say for it. Bed, TV, desk and cheap chair with a tiny bathroom. “All the comforts of home.”