A Texan in Her Bed

“Your grandmother seems to know a lot about this town even though she never lived here.”

“She lived in Dallas and had other Calhoun relatives here. She’s the one who interested me in the story of Lavita Wrenville and the triple murders.”

“It will shock people when you announce you’re a Calhoun,” Amy said and Destiny smiled. “It will add a little spice to the story of the Wrenville murders. I hope it doesn’t rock the sheriff too badly.”

Amy continued, “I heard a woman broke their engagement and Sheriff Milan hasn’t had a serious affair since. That might explain his actions with your sister. He’s about the only one who had an affair with her and didn’t propose.”

“So he’s had a broken heart? Interesting,” Destiny said, thinking about Wyatt. “I don’t think Desirée knew that, but she’s more interested in herself than the men she dates, so she doesn’t really learn a lot about them. Wyatt keeps himself all buttoned up. He likes women—and vice versa, I’m sure. Desirée probably did what every other single female in this town has done—fallen in love with him. Have you ever seen such blue eyes?”

“I haven’t met him yet. I think he stood across the street today when you talked to all the people.”

“Yes, he did. Did any of you find out why our billionaire rancher is also sheriff of Verity? Mimi knew nothing about that.”

“Actually, from what we’ve pieced together it’s because of the Wrenville house.”

Destiny stopped looking through her purse and raised her head. “How so?” She held up her hand. “Wait. I better get ready for tonight. He’s picking me up at seven. Come tell me while I decide what to wear.” She headed into the large bedroom. A huge bouquet of red anthurium and purple gladioli stood on a table. She glanced at the card. “Enjoy your stay. Verity Chamber of Commerce.”

Amy went on to explain what they’d learned. “All we could find out is that next year the Wrenville house reverts totally to the town and the town officials can do what they want with the house and property. The people wanted someone for sheriff they could trust when that happens and by general consensus, Wyatt Milan is a trustworthy and honest man, so they talked him into running for office.”

“And he’s probably not happy with someone—me—coming in and poking around before he has control,” Destiny added.

“Everyone seems to like him as sheriff.”

“Especially the ladies, I imagine. According to Desirée, men like him, too.” Destiny looked through her clothes. “About tonight, did you let some of the press know that I’m going out with Sheriff Milan?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Good. I’m going to shower. And I’ll make a call to Mimi and to Desirée.”

“If you don’t need anything else right now, I’ll go unpack some more of my things.”

“Thanks for doing mine earlier.”

“Sure,” Amy said over her shoulder as she left the suite.

Destiny showered, then pulled on undergarments and a robe and got her iPad to do FaceTime with her grandmother. She felt better if she could see the frail, aging woman. Destiny settled back to talk, waiting patiently because it took time for her grandmother to deal with FaceTime.

“Mimi, I’ve met Sheriff Milan,” she said after inquiring about her grandmother’s health and listening to her talk about her day.

“Did he take it well to discover you’re a Calhoun? Desirée never told him she was,” Mimi said. “Then again Desirée can barely remember her heritage and really doesn’t care.”

“I haven’t told him yet either. I’m waiting for the perfect moment. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”

“He’s a Milan, Destiny. You can’t trust a Milan.”

“Mimi, I think I can trust this one. He got elected sheriff because everyone in Verity trusts him, even Calhouns. Besides, tonight is a business dinner. He wants to talk me out of putting Verity on my show.”

“Pay no attention,” her white-haired grandmother said, smiling. “He’s a Milan and they’re hardheaded and I still say he probably won’t give you straight answers.”

Destiny held back a laugh. Her grandmother never even lived in Verity and knew about the feud only from her parents and grandparents, yet she harbored strong feelings against the Milans. She was the one who had told Destiny of her Calhoun genealogy.

“I’ll let you know how it went,” Destiny said, moving to other subjects until finally, she told her grandmother she needed to go.

“Take care of yourself, Destiny. If the sheriff doesn’t want you there, maybe you should reconsider. Please be careful.”

“I’ll be careful. I love you, Mimi,” she said. “Call me anytime,” she added, wishing she could do more to make her grandmother comfortable, knowing her arthritis bothered her and she didn’t get enough sleep at night.

She thought about the tall, ruggedly appealing sheriff of Verity and her pulse quickened. This would be more interesting than she had anticipated. And more challenging. Most men she encountered were struck by her looks and eager to please her. Wyatt Milan was an exception, but she enjoyed a challenge.

Desirée had told Destiny if she wanted cooperation from the sheriff, she should flirt with him and resort to her female wiles to get what she wanted. He might be happy with some flirting, but Destiny didn’t think it would change his opinion one bit. It certainly hadn’t worked with her sister. He’d been one of the few men able to resist Desirée.

Desirée had gotten over Wyatt and he was all but forgotten within a month after she returned to California. She could forget men as easily as she fell in love with them. Now that Destiny knew Wyatt, she wondered why her sister had ever thought he would go with her back to California. She could, however, understand why Desirée had been attracted to him.

She crossed the room to look in the closet again to decide what she would wear, finally selecting a dress that she hoped would get Wyatt’s attention.

At five before seven she critically studied her image in the full-length mirror, trying to decide if she had achieved the look she wanted. The straight black dress hugged her curves from her waist down, and the top of the dress had a one-shoulder neckline in hot pink that matched her high-heeled sandals. Her hair was pinned up, with curly strands falling free around her face. Gold earrings dangled from her ears and along with the gold bracelets complemented her gold necklace with three diamonds centered in it.

Satisfied with her appearance, she picked up a small black purse just as the phone rang and she answered to hear Wyatt’s voice saying he was in the lobby.

Since she had told the media why she was in Verity, she expected to get attention all the time she was in town. When she stepped down into the lobby from the curving staircase from the mezzanine, she noticed two men with cameras aimed at her. In fact, every man in the lobby looked in her direction. Her pulse skipped a beat when she spotted Wyatt Milan. Dressed in a charcoal suit, black boots, a black wide-brimmed hat, he stood a few yards from the bottom step.

His gaze met hers, causing her heart to thud. Smiling at him, she walked down the stairs. She was aware of the cameras, but her gaze was on Wyatt, who looked back with the faintest hint of a smile.

At the bottom step he came forward. “Destiny,” he said, the simple pronunciation of her name sounding different from anyone else she had heard say it. She tingled from her head to her toes. She’d never had a physical reaction to a man as intense as with Wyatt. She had never expected to be so attracted to him. His electronic pictures had not conveyed his appeal.

He gave her a full smile, laugh lines creasing the corners of his mouth, and she actually felt weak in the knees as he linked her arm with his.

A man holding a camera stepped close. “Evening, Wyatt. Ms. Jones, I’m Carl Stanley with the Verity paper. Is Sheriff Milan taking you to the Wrenville house now?”

“I didn’t dress this way to go to the Wrenville house,” she said, laughing along with Carl and the others around her. “That will come a little later,” she answered, smiling at him.

“How did you hear about Verity and the Wrenville house? Was it from your sister when she visited?”

“I heard about it before that. Maybe Verity is more famous than people who live here realize,” she said while the reporter took notes.

“Do you hope to solve the mystery of the three murders in Lavita’s house?”

“That would be a fabulous result, but I don’t expect to get answers to questions that people have been asking for over a century. We’re just looking into the situation. Sometimes my show, Unsolved Mysteries, prompts people to come forward. We’ve had some solutions to puzzling cases since we started the series.”

“Are you going to interview local people for your show?”

“Carl, in due time you’ll see how the show unfolds. Thank you for your questions and your interest. Verity is one of the friendliest towns I’ve ever visited. We’ll talk again,” Destiny said, smiling as he raised his digital camera and got a close-up of her. Two more men moved closer and she smiled and posed while they took pictures.

Wyatt stepped forward. “Okay, guys, you have your pictures. We’ll be going now. Ms. Jones will be around to answer questions later this week.” He whisked her outside and into a black sports car. In long strides he circled the car and climbed inside to drive away.

“You handled that well,” she said.

“I believe you’re the one who handled it. You’re news right now and they’re interested, which you expected them to be, and I can’t blame them. This is a quiet town.”