A Texan in Her Bed

As he read it he received another text, this one from his youngest brother, Tony, also wanting to know about Destiny. Wyatt shook his head and strode through the front door of city hall.

“Sheriff,” Dwight said, shaking his head, “Argus is dealing with two wrecked cars on the highway and he can’t tow the limo for several hours.”

“Okay. Val is across the street. Do you know if he found the driver?”

“He did. The man said he would move the limo when his boss told him to move it.”

Wyatt smiled and shook his head again. Was she doing this deliberately to get his attention? Beneath her smiles and charm was a strong will. He shook his head and went to his office to call Nick first on his private line.

“Nick, you have too many questions for a text. I didn’t know she was coming. Yes, I’ve met her. I don’t know about introducing you, but are you sure you want to meet her?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Look at the crowd she’s drawn. If you didn’t know she was coming, then the town didn’t know,” Nick replied.

“I think that’s right.”

“She knows how to draw a crowd.”

“All she has to do is walk down the street.”

“Amen. You’ve got that right. Try to figure some way we can meet her. Tony’s already sent me a text. How come you’re not out there?”

“I’ve already met her, and my deputy is there.”

“So you’ve talked to her.”

“A little. I’ll get you the introduction, and I’ll call you about when and where.”

“Thanks, Wyatt. She said she’s staying at the Verity Hotel.”

“So she told everyone, including the press, where she’ll be. The lady does want attention. Don’t tell me you’re going to hang out in the lobby?”

Nick chuckled. “Hardly. No, I’ll meet her, but not that way. Thanks for calling.”

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Wyatt sent Tony a text. Three minutes later his phone rang.

“I’m watching Destiny Jones in Verity on TV.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ve talked to Nick and I promise I’ll introduce both of you sometime.”

“Cool. Don’t forget. Right now you’re missing her interview.”

“I’ll live. Talk to you soon, Tony.” Wyatt picked up an iPad from his desk and switched to the television cable to pick up her interview. He watched her deftly field questions, give answers that would bring laughter and generally captivate the audience. He gazed at her green eyes and auburn hair. It wouldn’t matter if she had mumbled and had nothing to say. She was gorgeous and charming and her audience was enchanted.

Wyatt’s jaw clamped shut a little more tightly as he listened to her talk about wanting to learn about Lavita Wrenville and how fascinating Verity’s history was, including the Milan-Calhoun feud. Each minute he watched her his hopes sank lower because at dinner he had hoped to discourage her from using the unsolved murders at the Wrenville house for a show. There would be no way, now that she’d spoken about it to the media, that she’d pack up and go back to Chicago.

He thought about her parking the red limo in his space. That had not been a casual, thoughtless event. She wanted the town’s attention and she had known exactly what she was doing then, just as she knew what she was doing now in talking to the crowd that was still growing. Shortly, he would have to go out there and break it up because they would be blocking traffic on Main if many more people came to watch her.

Even as he thought that and watched, she told the crowd farewell. A man stepped in front of her and a woman moved on one side of her. To Wyatt’s surprise Val moved beside her on the other side as a second woman fell in behind them. They crossed the street, the man in the lead clearing the way while a smaller crowd flowed with her. When they reached the red limo, the man leading the way held the door. She turned to smile and wave at the crowd, thanking them, throwing them a kiss and then vanishing into the limo, followed by the two women, the tinted windows hiding the interior. In seconds the limo slowly eased from the curb and the crowd dispersed.

He switched off the iPad and stood, rubbing the back of his neck.

He had mixed feelings about dinner with her, but his desire to spend the evening with her outweighed his dislike of having to deal with her about the Wrenville murders and the old family feud. Seven o’clock couldn’t come too soon.

Wyatt nodded. This might be a night to remember.

Two (#uab513573-dbcd-52a6-bb5e-b11637f87494)

Destiny and her staff entered the hotel and took the VIP elevator to the top floor where she had all four suites. In addition to hers, Virginia and Duke Boyden, her camera operator and her chauffeur, shared a suite, while Amy had her own suite next to Destiny’s.

Destiny entered her suite, followed by Amy Osgood, her cousin and assistant. Destiny barely glanced at a huge bouquet of pink-and-white lilies on the oval glass table in front of the sofa. Amy paused beside a large round platter holding cheeses, crackers and fruit. A stack of china plates and cutlery was on a tray next to the hors d’oeuvres. Amy picked up a card. “Compliments of the Verity Hotel,” she read.

“Take all that to your room. I really don’t want any of it.”

“Thanks, Destiny. I’ll take some. I have a smaller version in my room and the Boydens have one, also.”

“Y’all can share mine,” Destiny said as she tossed aside her large bag. She was remembering the moment in his office that Sheriff Wyatt Milan had entered. The most vivid, crystal-blue eyes she had ever seen had taken her breath away, holding her immobile, stopping her thoughts while they had stared at each other. She had seen pictures of him, but she wasn’t prepared for the man in person. No wonder Desirée had fallen for him. She had never understood what had gotten into her little sister to go to some tiny town in Texas and fall head over heels in love with the sheriff.

She had learned soon enough that she had been wrong in her views of the small Texas town. Verity’s residents had enormous wealth. She had been surprised when she had learned the sheriff himself was a billionaire rancher, a member of an old-time Texas family, a former professional football player and he held a law degree. But looking into his blue eyes today, feeling the force of his personality when he had simply entered the room, she realized why Desirée had been bowled over. The man was larger-than-life. One look and her opinions of Wyatt Milan had changed instantly.

Wavy brown hair above a face with rugged features, prominent cheekbones, a slight bump in his nose, maybe from a break, a stubborn jut to his chin. He wore a neat brown uniform with an unofficial hand-tooled leather belt around his narrow waist and boots on his feet. It wouldn’t have mattered what he wore; just standing quietly he had a commanding presence.

She spun around in a circle with her arms outstretched. “Congratulate me, Amy. Sheriff Milan is taking me to dinner tonight. Just what I want, but coming sooner than I expected.”

“Congratulations!” Amy said, glancing at her boss with a frown.

“Don’t look so worried.”

“You said he doesn’t want you here or want you using Verity for a show,” Amy said.

“Sheriff Milan will change his mind. You’ll see. Besides, I have the letter from the governor of Texas and a letter from Mayor Nash.”

“So when are you going to make it public that you have a tie to this town?” Amy asked.

“I told you—when I can get the most attention by doing so. Attention for the show. I’ll make my announcement when I’m taping. Until then it’s our little secret. Verity doesn’t make the news, so it’s never been picked up by the media that I have a connection here.”

“Sheriff Milan already isn’t happy with you. He’ll really dislike learning your mother is in a branch of the Calhoun family from here.”

Destiny smiled. “We’ll see when the time comes. Until then—bury it.”

“I will. It’s a shame the sheriff doesn’t want you here. I think the story of the murders should be interesting. People in the crowd today seemed to like you and want you here.”

“Verity is a small town and they keep to themselves. No one has ever made an issue about the house or publicized it. It’s just gone unnoticed. Lots of towns that have something like this capitalize on it and make it a tourist attraction or Halloween event and get attention, but not here. That makes it good for me to use in my book whether or not I find anything. I don’t really expect to solve the old murders. It’s been more than a hundred years since Lavita Wrenville’s demise.”

“You must have made an impression on Sheriff Milan since he asked you to dinner tonight.”

“He invited me to dinner to try to talk me out of staying here and doing a show about the Wrenville house. He doesn’t know that I’ve heard about the murders, the legend and the feud from Mimi,” she said, using the name she had called her grandmother since she had learned to talk