Beef Stolen-Off (18 page)

“For the record, you went and got yourself an overnight stay at Ranchero Community Hospital on my last night in town, if I’m not mistaken. And I wasn’t blowing hot air. My mother’s lasagna recipe is the best.”

Jordan slapped her forehead, suddenly remembering their plans for the evening. “Danny, did you ask the guys if they wanted to go to DiNardo’s with us tonight?”

“Oh hell!” Danny popped up, nearly losing the towel again. Glancing at the clock, he said. “They’re all coming with us. I told them we were leaving around seven. That only gives me fifteen minutes to get ready.”

“DiNardo’s? Is that the little dive in Connor?”

“Yes. And if you’re nice to me, I’ll let you come along.” Jordan tried to make her smile seductive. “Unless you just want to stay and hang out here.”

He pulled her into his arms and held her to him. “I can’t
tell you how inviting that is, but I haven’t had a thing to eat all day. All I ask is that you hold that thought.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her, making her forget the rumbling in her stomach—and just about everything else, except how much she didn’t want to leave the warmth of his embrace. She sighed and snuggled closer.

“Does that get me an invite to the party?”

“Absolutely,” she replied. “Oh Lord, the others will be here any second, and I need a shower.”
A cold one!

Watching the gang interact with Alex as if it hadn’t been almost two months since he’d left Ranchero had warmed Jordan’s heart. Since Alex had taken the six a.m. flight from El Paso, he could barely hold his eyes open. Although he tried to keep up with everyone, Jordan had sent him home, convincing him he needed a good night’s sleep to get ready for their date the next night.

Things have a way of working out
, she thought as she made her way to her editor’s office. Laughing to herself, she remembered how she’d popped Alex in the head with a skillet and knocked him unconscious a while back when she thought he might be a bad guy.

And Alex had been right. She was the one who had ruined their first big date by nearly getting herself killed and ending up in the hospital. No way she’d let an opportunity like that pass her by again. She had him for two full days, and she intended to make it impossible for him to forget about her while he was off in El Paso fighting drug smugglers.

They’d decided tonight would be lasagna night. And if Jordan had anything to say about it, dessert would be more
than the chocolate cake she was picking up at Myrtle’s Diner on the way over to his house.

“You can go in now,” Egan’s secretary said, waving toward the door.

Jordan stood and proceeded in that direction, smiling at Jackie Frazier. “Nice sweater,” she said as she passed.

“Thanks.” The secretary didn’t even look up.

Since the very first time Jackie had summoned her to the editor’s office, Jordan hadn’t been able to get the woman to utter more than a few words in response.

Inside the office, Egan was on the phone reading someone the riot act and motioned for her to sit down. Slamming the phone in the cradle, he leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head.

“Idiots! We’re getting bombarded with bigger orders from the 7-Elevens, and the incompetents at the distribution center can’t seem to get off their asses and make it happen. It’s like they have no clue we’re in an economic crunch and fighting for every newspaper sale we can get.” He stopped and released a frustrated sigh.

“Is that why you wanted to talk to me?” Jordan tapped impatiently on the arm of her chair.

Only two more hours until quitting time. Three more until she was on her way to Alex’s apartment. And hopefully, only a couple more after that and all her fantasies from the past few months would finally come true.

“Of course not. What could you do about it? We can fix a lot of things, but we can’t change stupid.” Egan straightened up in his chair and pointed to an envelope on his desk. “Know what that is?”

She shook her head, not sure if she wanted to find out.

“It’s a big fat check from Lucas Santana. Apparently, your column with last week’s beef recipe is making a pretty
significant difference in his profit margin. At least for this month, he’s cashing in on the increased sales and has doubled his ads.” He slapped the desk. “I gotta hand it to you, Jordan, I wasn’t sure you could pull it off.”

“Does that mean I get a bonus?” She thought about the extra money she had already spent this month on takeout alone. “Because I sure could use it.”

“Yeah, yeah. So could the rest of the world. I have a different kind of bonus for you.”

Her interest piqued, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on his desk. “More Cowboys tickets?”

The editor laughed out loud. “I knew you had spunk from the moment I first saw you.” Shaking his head, he continued. “I’m talking about only running the personals two days and jacking up the culinary column to three times a week.”

“And that’s your idea of a bonus? I work twice as hard getting recipes and talking about food than I do just copying someone’s desperate attempt to hook up. So, no thanks.”

“And you get to sit in the press box with Jim Westerville at the Cougars basketball game against Wichita Falls in three weeks.”

She jumped from her chair and leaned across his desk. “For real?”

“Did I not promise you that way back when? It’s my way of saying thank you for a job well done so far.” He shrugged. “Of course, I had to bribe Westerville before he’d agree.”

She didn’t care what he’d had to do to get her a pass to sit with the sportswriter for the
Globe
. A picture of the big man falling down the steps of the bleachers flashed in her head, and she quickly blinked it away.

Okay, the more Christian thing would be to wish he only sprained his ankle, so she could take over his job for
a few weeks. She wouldn’t have to plan a trip to the confessional that way.

“Before you gush all over my desk, get out of here and get back to work.” He patted the envelope with the check from Santana. “For now, we’ll hold on increasing your column an extra day. You’d better hope you live up to the hype with another good recipe this week.”

“I’m using Bella’s Baked Steak and Gravy recipe. I can personally tell you it will have the people of Ranchero begging for more.”

“You’re cocky, McAllister, but I like it. Now go make some money for the newspaper.”

Jordan grabbed her notebook on the way out and stopped at Jackie Frazier’s desk. “Have a great night, Jackie.”

The secretary didn’t even flinch.

“Or not,” Jordan mumbled under her breath. She pushed the elevator button, so totally happy with her life, it didn’t matter that she’d been snubbed yet again.

What did matter was she was one step closer to her dreams. Jordan McAllister was going to watch a Grayson County College basketball game from the press box!

Jordan picked up the dessert at Myrtle’s Diner and headed east toward Connor. Alex’s rental house was located on the southern tip of Ranchero, and although she’d never been there, it was easy to find.

Tucked behind a row of evergreen shrubs that lined a white picket fence, it was the perfect house for someone like Alex. He’d been raised with three sisters, and Jordan knew he would appreciate the quaintness of the tiny seafoam green house with the wraparound porch.

It must be nice to have a place like this and have someone else pay the bills.
She parked her car by the curb and made her way to the front door.

Before she could maneuver the dessert box to free up a hand to knock, the white, colonial-style door, dressed up with a Texas bluebonnet wreath, swung open.

Alex leaned against the doorjamb and grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat up to no good.

Which was fine with her.

“Hey, gorgeous, did you make this especially for me?” He grabbed the box from her and made a sweep with his empty arm, beckoning her to enter.

“Oh, yeah. Myrtle and I whipped it up when I got home from my forty-hour-a-week day job—right after I gathered the eggs and milked the cow out back. I almost didn’t get the butter churned because I had to sneak in a pedicure and shave my legs.” She smiled, already anticipating spending time alone with this man. “I’ll bet you’re worth the extra effort, though.”

Okay, she had shaved her legs and did wish she’d had time for a pedicure. That much was true. She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Ooh, something smells good.”

“Grandma Serafina’s Lasagna.” He took a step back and looked her over from head to toe. “In those tight black jeans you deserve the best,” he said, giving her another once-over. “Come on. I’ve got another treat. There’s a glass of homemade sangria waiting for you.”

Here she was, alone with a guy who made George Clooney look like just another dude, and all she could think about was how much her readers would love the new recipes.

What did that say about her?

She took the glass from him, not about to confess that she usually drank wine only in small doses. Not only had she never acquired a taste for it, but she usually paid a high price with a monster morning-after headache. She preferred margaritas, especially the ones with a little sangria swirled through them like the ones she’d had last week at Santana Ranch, though they tended to give her a headache as well.

Just to be nice, she sipped the drink and was surprised
by the pleasant fruity taste. Licking her lips, she looked up at him and realized he was waiting for the verdict. “You made this, too?”

“It’s the recipe you printed this week in your column. Are you impressed yet?” He set his glass on the table and came around behind her to nuzzle her neck with his lips.

As an electric current shot up her spine, she tilted her head forward to give him better access.

Abruptly, he stopped. “Aha! I knew the sangria would render you helpless against my charms.”

She turned, ready to hit him with some smart-alecky comeback but began to laugh when she saw the comical expression on his face. “Geez, Moreland, I wouldn’t brag about that if I were you. Bet your cop buddies would love to hear how you have to ply a girl with homemade cocktails to get her interested.” She bit her lip to hide the smile and finished off the wine.

“That’s a valid point, but let’s see what you say after tasting my lasagna. You
will
be defenseless, McAllister.”

“Promises, promises. Now feed me before this wine goes to my head.” She handed him her empty glass. “This time, fill it all the way to the top.”

An hour later, they finished Myrtle’s Better Than Sex Cake and were still teasing each other about everything from their childhoods to their jobs. Just as Alex predicted, the lasagna was fantastic, and he promised to get a copy of the recipe to her the next day. After yet another glass of sangria, Jordan was feeling pretty mellow.

“I had a long meeting with your brother and the sheriff this morning. We mapped out how Danny’s going to approach the cattle-rustling problem. He’s the lead, and I’m only going to be a consultant.” He paused to shove his dessert plate away. “Your brother’s a smart guy, Jordan.”

“He said the same thing about you,” she replied. “I mean about being smart. He mentioned you were going to work with a forensic toxicologist from Dallas who’s trying to figure out what kind of poison was used on Rusty.”

Alex nodded. “That’s the real reason I’m here. Dr. Maldonado and I worked a case in Dallas a few years back. The symptoms were very similar, with signs of asphyxiation and seizures right before death. Both of those autopsies came up empty as far as something in the blood or the stomach contents. For the Morales case, the plan is for Dr. M. to come up with the poison, and I’ll figure out how and when it got into Rusty’s body.”

“Has he found anything yet?”

“He’s about eighty-five percent sure he knows what it is, but that was only after reexamining a lot of tissue samples. Even then, he found only a trace of the suspected poison. Luckily, knowing the results from the other two cases, he was able to test for the specific toxin in the organs.”

“What was it?” she asked.

“Aconitum napellus. It’s extremely deadly and works almost instantly.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Most people haven’t. It isn’t that common even though it’s relatively easy to acquire.”

“That’s kind of scary.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Danny said you were sitting next to the dead guy all night. Did you know him well?”

Jordan noticed the twitch that started on the side of his mouth as he waited for her response. The mischievous part of her would have loved to tease him for a while longer about her relationship with Rusty, but this was too serious to make light of.

“I only met him that night. I went to the Cattlemen’s
Ball so I could write a review about it in my column.” She didn’t mention that Rusty had been an arranged date, or how hot he was, sure that wouldn’t make for good pre-pillow talk.

A look of relief flashed in Alex’s eyes. “What about the other people at the table? Did you know them?”

“No, that night was the first time I’d met any of them.”

She lowered her eyes, not willing to tell Alex that she suspected Cooper. Since it was obvious his fiancée was still in love with Rusty, it might have been a good motive for wanting to see him harmed.