Less-than-Innocent Invitation (5 page)

He looked back at the road as he turned onto the street leading to the center of town. “No. He's running against Gretchen because he feels her platform on tax reform may have a negative effect on local businesses in Royal.”

“What about you? Do you think Jake is a better candidate for mayor, or as a businessman, is he protecting his own interests?” Melissa knew he was one of Logan's close friends. Did his loyalty to Jake make him blind to his flaws?

Logan's mouth tightened. “Jake is as upstanding as you get.”

Melissa had to stop herself from grinning. Obviously she was right. Jake was Logan's friend, and Logan was loyal to a fault.

Except with you.

Melissa tamped down on her feelings of resentment and tried to keep her focus on her story. “I wasn't suggesting that he wasn't,” she replied, softening her tone. “I'm just trying to find out what's going on.”

“Right.” Just like he was trying to find out why she'd left. And eventually he would. He just hoped he wouldn't be sorry when he did. He tabled his thoughts as he pulled up to a curb in the upscale shopping district. “My meeting shouldn't take more than an hour or two.”

She reached for her door handle. “I'll be ready when you are.”

“You don't have to rush.”

“Thanks.” Melissa got out of the truck, then gave him a wave. Maybe she didn't have to rush shopping, but she did have to rush to get this story done so she could return to her life in Houston.

So far today she'd avoided any further personal discussions with Logan. She didn't expect her luck would hold out, though, not with the looks she'd been getting from him. Or the innuendos.

Still, the question of his marriage burned in her mind. Maybe talking with him would be worth the pain if she forced him to admit the truth. Maybe she'd leave Royal this time with her mind clear of Logan Voss.

And her heart.

 

Logan pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the Texas Cattleman's Club just as Connor Thorne, Jake's brother, got out of his car. Unlike Jake, who was outgoing and easy to know, Connor was on the quiet side. Though his hair was cut short the way he'd worn it when he'd served as an army Ranger, he'd resigned his commission to return home and run the family's engineering business. Connor didn't talk about his reasons, but Logan suspected something had happened to cause him to give up his chosen career.

“Hey, Connor,” Logan called as he got out of his truck and met him in front of the club. They exchanged pleasantries, then Logan said, “It looks like Jake, Mark and Tom Morgan have already arrived.” He gestured toward their vehicles.

Connor nodded. “Yeah. Now we're only waiting for Gavin.”

Together they entered the club and went to a private room in the rear. Moments later, Gavin walked in and everyone but the sheriff seated themselves around the large conference table.

“I'm glad you all could make it,” Gavin stated. He took off his hat and dropped it on the table. He looked at every man in the room, his gaze pausing briefly on each. “Since I'm down a few deputies I could use your help.”

“Anything we can do,” Logan said. The rest of the men voiced their agreement.

“As you know, Jonathan Devlin was murdered.” All of the men nodded. “Until I made headway into the investigation, I've kept the results of the autopsy confidential, even from the family, because I don't know who was involved.”

“And now?” Logan asked.

“The investigation is snowballing.”

Jake was the one who asked the question on all of their minds. “So how was Jonathan Devlin killed?”

Gavin released a sigh. “Lethal injection.”

“What was in it?” Tom asked, leaning forward.

Logan understood Tom's interest. Recently, Tom had learned that Jonathan was his great-grandfather. Adopted at birth, it wasn't until after his mother died that Tom had returned to Royal in search of his family.

Meeting Jonathan must have been an eye-opener. The man had had a reputation of being difficult and he'd ruled his family with an iron fist. There was no telling who had murdered him.

“Potassium chloride,” Gavin told them. “Which is why it looked as though he died of cardiac arrest.”

“Did they find any needle marks on him?” Connor asked.

The sheriff tapped his fingers on the table. “No. We believe it was given to him through his intravenous drip.”

“Then the killer got to him in the hospital.” Logan voiced what they were all thinking.

“That's a fair assumption, but so far there's no proof. My main focus at this time is hospital staff
members, anyone who has worked there in the past year and family members who could have had a grudge against him.”

“Do you have any leads?” Tom asked.

Gavin sighed. “More than my men and I can handle. I don't like the idea of a killer running loose in our town. We're following up the leads as quickly as we can.”

Jake rested his elbows on the conference table. “How about suspects?”

Gavin pulled out a chair, turned it around and straddled it. “No one solid. I went out to Jonathan's house, but found nothing significant to his murder.”

“Anything else?” Logan asked.

“Not yet. We're still analyzing evidence and hoping something will turn up to lead us to the killer.”

“What about one of the Windcrofts?” Jake asked. “They've been fighting with the Devlins for more than a hundred years over whether Nicholas Devlin cheated Richard Windcroft out of half of his land in a poker game.”

“But their feud has never led to murder,” Connor reasoned out loud.

“Except when Nicholas was shot,” Tom offered. “My family still talks about it. They believe a Windcroft was responsible.”

“But why would a Windcroft want Jonathan dead?” Gavin asked. “What would they gain?” He shook his head. “I don't know. It just doesn't add up.”

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, let's take this in another direction. What about the appearance of the map? Jonathan lived in the same house as Jessamine Golden did. If someone really believes she
engineered a gold heist, they might have been after something in the house.”

Connor nodded. “Like the map.”

“But the map only turned up when Opal Devlin began cleaning out Jonathan's things,” Logan pointed out.

Tom rubbed his knuckles against his chin. “Maybe someone already knew about the map's existence.”

“Say someone
was
after it,” Mark speculated. “Without knowing if the map is authentic, who would want it bad enough to kill Jonathan?”

Connor sat forward. “How about Malcolm Durmorr?” he suggested. “He's related to the Devlins, but he's never been welcomed into the family fold and he's been on the wrong side of the law more than once.”

“Could be him, but hell, with the map made public and on display at the museum, it could be anyone who believes it might lead to a treasure of gold bars. There's something else.” Logan dreaded this part because he knew his friends were going to get on his case about a reporter staying at his ranch. “Melissa Mason, the reporter from WKHU in Houston, is staying at my ranch and is doing a story on Royal's celebration and history. She's planning to mention the map in her feature. When it airs, every kook within a thousand-mile radius will be after it.”

“Another reason I need your help,” Gavin stated. “As I've said, the Devlin murder case is keeping me busy. Aaron Hill at the Heritage Society Museum would like some assistance safeguarding the map. I suggested the TCC handle the duty since my department is short on manpower. Can I count on you to keep the map secure
and do some discreet investigating on Jonathan's murder? Use your own contacts and report back to me if you find anything that could be connected to it.”

Logan nodded. “You got it.”

Tom gave Logan a contemplative look. “Melissa Mason is quite a looker. How are you standing it having her under your roof?”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, Logan. Hell, I want to know how you managed to get her out to your ranch.”

“If I'd known she needed a place to sleep, I would have offered her a bed,” Connor stated, then quipped,
“Mine.”

All of the men laughed—except Logan. He didn't find Connor's comment amusing. The thought of Connor sleeping with Melissa irked him. “She's not available.”

At his gruff tone, Mark's eyebrows shot up. “Oh, is that the way the wind blows?”

“Don't go reading anything into it. She's planning to return to Houston as soon as she finishes her report here.” Logan stood, cutting off any further discussion about Melissa. “When Gavin has more news, we'll meet back here and discuss any action we need to take. In the meantime, let's keep a watch out for anything unusual.”

H
aving called Melissa to let her know he was on his way, Logan pulled up to the curb in front of the same department store where he'd left her. Though he'd told her not to rush, she'd assured him she'd finished shopping and was ready.

As he opened his truck door and got out, he spotted her walking toward him, her arms loaded with packages of all shapes and sizes, several full shopping bags hanging from her hands. Walking around the vehicle, he relieved her of most of the packages.

“Have fun?” he asked. It looked as if she'd bought out the store. Logan opened the tailgate and deposited her items inside.

“Actually, yes.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. With her busy schedule, she rarely had time to shop.
More often than not, she would run into a store for a specific item. The couple of hours that Logan had been gone had passed rather quickly, but she was surprised at what she'd managed to buy.

She'd also used the time to put her feelings for Logan into perspective—or rather, to face her attraction to him. It was there every moment he was near her, that breathless feeling of anticipation.

When she'd been young and naive, she'd loved him with all of her heart so it only made sense that she still had feelings for him buried inside. Denying her obvious attraction toward him would only make her stay here harder. From her earlier response to his touch, Logan knew it, too.

What she'd do about them remained to be seen.

Daniel had accused her of being a workaholic. He was right. It was the way she protected herself. Work had provided a perfect excuse not to become involved with the men she'd dated.

Why should she? She'd never felt that rush, that endless excitement that should accompany intimacy.

Because those men hadn't been Logan.

And because Logan had hurt her, she'd been afraid to open her heart to anyone else.

Seeing Logan again stirred up yearnings for him that had lain dormant. Even though she'd promised herself she could handle her attraction to him, with him close enough to touch, her entire body tensed as if bracing itself.

How did he have the power to do that to her after all these years? Disconcerted, she handed the rest of her packages to him and he put them in the truck along with the others.

Closing the tailgate, Logan turned to her. “Ready to go to the museum?”

“Yes, I'm anxious to get a look at the Halifax exhibit.” And to get away from him. The man had an effect on her that should be outlawed.

“Melissa—” Logan started, then heard someone call his name and straightened. He saw Gretchen Halifax coming across the street toward them, her stride purposeful. Though not especially pleased to see her, he was grateful she'd interrupted his errant thought of acting on his attraction to Melissa.

“Hello, Logan,” Gretchen said, stopping in front of them. “It's good to see you.” She shifted toward Melissa with an engaging smile.

“This is Councilwoman Gretchen Halifax,” Logan said by way of an introduction. “Gretchen, Melissa Mason. She's a reporter from Houston. She's doing a series of reports on Royal's anniversary.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Melissa said, shaking Gretchen's hand. Impeccably dressed from head to toe, Gretchen projected a professional image that few could find fault with. Melissa had noticed the councilwoman last night at the celebration gala. She'd intended to strike up a conversation with Gretchen, until Logan had cornered her and thrown her whole night into chaos.

“I'd heard there was a reporter in town. It's a pleasure to meet you. Our town appreciates your interest. Your stories are bound to draw more visitors to boost our economy.”

“Thank you.”

“Logan, the ball last night was delightful. Miss Mason, I do hope you were there and enjoyed it.”

Melissa had a feeling Gretchen knew specifically that she'd attended and was fishing for details of her and Logan's encounter. Few people could have missed the exchange between them on the dance floor and their quick departure from the room. “Yes, I was there with some of my coworkers. We had a wonderful time.”

“I'm glad to hear that. We want you to feel right at home here. How long are you going to be in town?”

Smiling politely, Melissa replied, “For a few days.”

Irritation touched Gretchen's face, then she quickly recovered and pasted on her smile. “I'd be happy to do an interview with you if you'd like. I'm running for mayor.”

“Yes, I know. I'll keep that in mind,” Melissa replied, not at all interested in promoting Gretchen Halifax's political ambitions. Obviously Gretchen was trying to cash in on some free publicity. It was rare for Melissa not to like someone on introduction. Gretchen held herself in a regal way, strived to appear cordial, but Melissa's investigative reporting had honed her skill at reading people. The woman's eyes revealed her to be clever and ambitious.

“Great. I'll look forward to hearing from you.” Gretchen turned to Logan. “I wanted to talk to you about the map found with Jessamine Golden's saddlebag.”

Logan shifted his stance, curious as to why she was interested. “What about it?”

“Do you think it's wise to have the map displayed at the Historical Society Museum indefinitely?”

“It belongs to them, and it's under lock and key,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but with what happened to my ancestor's exhibit, it might not be safe there.” To Melissa she added, “Edgar Halifax was my great-great uncle, the first mayor of Royal.”

Melissa forced a patient smile. “Yes, I know.”

“I think it'll be fine,” Logan assured Gretchen, but he couldn't help wondering what she was up to. Her concern about the map intrigued him.

Melissa touched Logan's arm. “I was planning to ask if I could use the map for my story, display it where the camera can get a clear shot of it.”

With a sniff of disapproval, Gretchen tilted her chin up and gave Melissa a patronizing look. “That's not a good idea, Miss Mason. The map may be valuable. Left out in the open, someone could steal it.”

Logan stiffened at Melissa's side. “The director of the museum has asked the members of the Cattleman's Club to safeguard it.”

The councilwoman's lips thinned to a line. “I'll be happy to secure it in my safe.”

“I'll talk to the members of the club and we'll get back to you, Gretchen, but I don't think that'll be necessary.” Logan's tone was firm.

“I'm just trying to help,” Gretchen declared, her tone turning slightly brusque.

“And we appreciate it.” He gave her a nod. “I'll be in touch.”

With a tight smile, Gretchen said goodbye and strode away, her heels tapping sharply on the sidewalk.

Melissa released a slow sigh, then realized she was still holding Logan's arm. He looked at her at that moment, and she pulled away. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

He shook his head. “That woman is something else.”

“She has quite an overwhelming presence, doesn't she?” Melissa remarked. “Why do you think she was so interested in holding onto the map?”

“No idea,” Logan answered. “She could be concerned about preserving the town's history as part of her platform.”

“Probably.”

He opened the passenger door of his truck and waited for her to get in, then went around and climbed behind the wheel. After merging into traffic, he headed out of town toward the museum.

“How did your meeting go?” she asked, curious to know what he and his friends had talked about at the club. She'd asked around about the Texas Cattleman's Club. Some people had suggested it was a social club where the men could go for conversation and relaxation. But when she'd lived in Royal she'd heard rumors that the club was some sort of secret organization of men who performed dangerous missions, solved crimes and ran rescue operations.

It was a silly notion, of course. It wasn't as though they were superheroes. But she did wonder about Logan's involvement.

“The meeting went fine,” Logan replied, not revealing what he'd discussed with his friends. Melissa would find out soon enough about Jonathan's murder. For now, he'd keep it under his hat, use it as leverage to keep her
involved in reporting from Royal if she made noises about leaving.

“Really?”

Her inquisitive expression sent a warning to him. “Yes.”

“Hmmm.”

Not sure he really wanted to know, but curious as to the direction her mind was going, Logan asked, “What's that ‘hmm' for?”

“Who else was there?” she asked, ignoring his question.

Logan shrugged. “A few of my friends.”

“Such as…” Melissa waited for him to fill her in.

“Jake Thorne and his brother, Connor.”

“Jake, who's running for mayor against Gretchen, right?”

“Yes.”

“And what does Connor do?”

“He runs his family's engineering firm.”

“Ah. And who else was there?”

Studying her, he said, “You sure are full of questions.” He began thinking he was treading on dangerous ground. It wouldn't do for Melissa to know too much about the club or its operations. As far as the public was concerned it was an ordinary club.

“Just curious.” She smiled.

“Right.” The force of her smile hit him all the way to his heart. He'd always loved her shapely mouth, her tempting, kissable lips. After all these years, he still remembered her taste. Hot, sweet—and capable of driving a man to his knees, begging for more.

“I
am
a reporter,” she reminded him.

Logan hadn't forgot that. She'd be leaving within a week or so, as soon as she'd finished her story. “From what I've heard you're good one.” Her smile grew wider, reminiscent of the younger woman he'd loved.

“Don't try to sidetrack me with a compliment.” His comment was interesting. Had he been checking up on her? Or had he seen one of her reports?

He chuckled. “All right. Mark Hartman, who is another rancher and runs a self-defense studio in town, Tom Morgan, who's related to the Devlins and owns a demolition business, and the sheriff.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He glanced at her, his expression guarded. “What's that look for?”

“Well, you're a busy rancher, right?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Yet you sneak off in the middle of the day for some kind of meeting at the Cattleman's Club.”

He laughed. “I wasn't sneaking. It's broad daylight.”

“You know what I mean. What's going on? Why are you meeting with the sheriff?”

He hesitated, taking a moment to decide how to answer her without raising her suspicions. “Gavin's asked us to help out the sheriff's office for a while. With budget cuts and a hiring freeze, he's down a couple of deputies.” That much was the truth.

She considered that. “So why you guys?”

To appease his desire to touch her and to throw her off balance, he reached over and toyed with a silky strand of her hair. “Most of our members have a military background.”

At Logan's touch, Melissa struggled not to lose track of their conversation. Though his explanation sounded reasonable, his hesitation before he replied made her suspect he wasn't being totally upfront. She started to ask him another question, but they approached the museum. The parking lot was almost half-full.

As Logan parked, she smiled. “The museum looks the same.” It made her feel good to know that some things never changed. As a teenager she'd loved visiting the museum. The large, two-story, stately brick building, once the home of prominent landowners, was adorned with four ornate white columns and an array of beautiful flowers and shrubs.

They walked up the wide steps and through the arched doorway. Inside, two circular stairways with decorative wrought-iron railings led to the second floor. Original wood floors creaked under their footsteps as they climbed the stairs. Antique cases displayed artifacts of Royal's history, and visitors roamed from room to room.

“It's busier than it used to be,” Melissa commented.

“The museum has become a landmark in Royal. It's one of the most popular places for tourists to visit.”

“That's wonderful.” She looked around, then turned back toward him. “Do you know where the Halifax exhibit is?”

“This way. Both the Halifax Exhibit and Jessamine Golden's items are on display in the gallery up here.” At the top of the stairs, Logan guided her to a large room framed by two arched entrances.

She stood in the middle of the room and turned a complete circle. “This will be the perfect place to do a
video.” Pointing to the black, iron, Western-style chandelier hanging from the ceiling, she nodded. “And there's plenty of light from the chandelier. I'll have Rick check it out, but I believe this will work nicely. All I'll need is a podium to set the map on.”

Her excitement over her job drew his attention. She loved what she did. It showed in her eyes, in her voice when she spoke. She'd already said she was up for a promotion. Melissa was going places, had her career planned out, it seemed.

“This way,” he said, his mind sizzling like hot pavement. He showed her the Halifax Exhibit first. “Looks like the vandalism has been removed.”

“This exhibit will be barely worth mentioning if I don't have any evidence of the damage.”

“Aaron Hill, the museum director, may have some pictures and Gavin may have some crime shots, as well.”

“Great. I'd like to see if the sheriff will release copies of the photos to me to include in my report.”

They moved to Jessamine Golden's display. “Look at the roses tooled on her saddlebag, Logan,” she said quietly. A sense of sadness overcame her that she couldn't explain.

Logan reacted to the trace of wistfulness in her tone. “From what I've heard, the rose was her trademark.”