Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (19 page)

E
nough with the incessant ringing.

Jason slapped at the nightstand trying to find the alarm clock button. Pushing through the haze he realized it was his cell instead. Latching onto the phone, he flicked the lid open, pressing the offending object to his ear.

“Hello.” He coughed to clear the frog in his throat.

“Jason?”

Brain-fog gone, he snapped upright in the bed, knowing his foreman would call him only in an emergency. “Mateo? Is that you? What’s up?”

“I thought you’d want to know. Sam called. He heard shots over by the knoll just a few minutes ago.”

The fear in his foreman’s voice caused Jason’s blood to pump. He slung the covers back, thrusting his bare legs over the side, every nerve in his body alert.

“Did Sam see anyone? Are they shooting cattle now instead of butchering them?”

“No. I don’t think so. But I’m worried.”

“What’s happened?”

“Sam said the shots came from the knoll where I left Reuben around midnight.”

“No!” Jason looked at the clock—
4:45
. “Have you tried to reach Reuben on his cell?” He knew the answer. Mateo would have called his son first.

Jason stood, picked up his jeans, cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder. He hopped around trying to shove his right foot through the pant leg as he collected his thoughts, anxiety gnawing at his gut.

“Yes. And Reuben doesn’t answer his cell. I’m headed that way now to check on him.”

 “Mateo?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Call the police. Tell them the location. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He knew better than to tell his friend not to be concerned.

“Thanks.” The heartache came through loud and clear in the one word.

Hearing the disconnect Jason snapped the cell cover shut, slinging it onto the bed. He quickly finished dressing, collected his keys and phone then raced through the house out to the garage. His mind tumbled with thoughts. Maybe Reuben forgot his phone or forgot to charge his battery. The kid could be a heavy sleeper. There was any number of reasons why Reuben didn’t answer Mateo’s call. But deep inside Jason feared the worst.

When he reached the garage, he rushed through the side door, punched the door opener, and simultaneously jumped into the seat of his Jeep, reviving the motor to life. Backing out, he didn’t come to a full stop. He jerked the shift into first, popped the clutch and peeled rubber. He did it again in second as he headed toward the gate.  

S
tartled, BJ jerked upright, dazed. She realized she wasn’t in her room but on the sofa in Madelyne’s fully lit office. Her late night search came rushing back.

Parts of Madelyne’s letter rested in her lap, the rest scattered at her feet. Books were off the shelves and sitting on the floor. Drawers askew, paperwork strewn about the desk, all these things helped BJ recall her frantic search for more clues than what was left in the cryptic message from the grave.

A squeal of tires from outside the window moved BJ into action. She bent, gathered the scattered sheets, folding the letter as she ran to the window. She pulled back the drape in time to see taillights disappear around the bend in the drive. At this hour, it could only mean trouble.

Still reeling and numb from her discovery, BJ shoved the letter in her pocket. She raced from Madelyne’s office to the foyer and almost bumped into Sidney, dressed in a bathrobe.

“BJ.” Sidney looked taken aback to see her. He slowed to a more sedate manner then stopped a few feet away. “I’m sorry. Did the noise wake you?”

BJ didn’t bother to answer the question. “I saw taillights. Who was it?”

“Jason. Normally, I get his car for him, but not this time.” He looked disconcerted. “I’m assuming by the early hour, he left on urgent ranch business.”

“Hmm.” Her teeth pulled at her lower lip. “I hope it wasn’t trouble.”

“Not likely. A ranch has a way of consuming your life. Cattle get sick, fences go down, livestock get loose … any number of things can happen.”

Fully awake, she moved away from the door, slipping her hand in her pocket. The moment her fingers felt the lockbox key, her late night discovery rushed back with force.

Madelyne’s letter.

A moment of panic hit her until her hand moved to the other pocket and felt the stiff sheets of paper inside. Why would Madelyne leave her guessing? She could have just as easily told BJ in the letter what she’d find in the safety deposit box. But no, apparently, she liked playing games.

“I’m ready for a cup of tea. You want to join me, or will you be going back to bed?”

The Winchester chimes on the grandfather clock struck the hour.

“Not much use. I’ll not be getting any more sleep this morning. I’ll join you for a cup before starting my day.” He gave a slight nod, signaling with his hand in the direction he’d just come. “Shall we?”

A budding recognition of someone she had known, possibly from her past, hit her full-force. However, she couldn’t quite grasp who. The answer would come to her one of these days.

“Or would you rather I bring a cup to your room?” Sidney watched her with concern.

Her cheeks heated. “Oh, forgive me. My mind was wandering. Let’s go. I’m ready for something to warm my insides and clear some of these cobwebs from my brain.”

Sidney’s soft chuckle filtered through the quiet hallway. BJ liked the sound. She didn’t know a great deal about the man, just that he was good at his job. However, his demeanor was much like her old friend Pastor Freeman. He showed real concern about her and the others in his charge.

The small key and letter in her pocket pulled at BJ’s thoughts like a weight about her neck, tugging her down into a spiral of agony. Her nocturnal search of Madelyne’s office and coming up dry had her feeling a little drawn and concerned about what awaited her in the bank vault. Her steps drummed
what if
into her brain. She stopped speculating. There would be no answers for her until she got to the bank.

Why did Madelyne write,
the secret of your birth is in the safety deposit box
, when it would have been just as simple to reveal her knowledge in the letter?

To get her mind off of the vagaries of Madelyne’s cryptic letter, Sidney might be a good source, if he would be cooperative, to find out more about the woman.

 “Cup or mug?” Sidney grabbed the box of imported teas and set them in front of BJ, along with the sugar and creamer.

Hmm. Maybe she was imported at birth?
BJ almost laughed at the silly thought.

“I’ll have the tall mug with the pink roses. It’s one of my favorite.”

A reminiscent smile played about Sidney’s lips. “It was Madelyne’s favorite too.”

BJ latched on to the fact that Sidney, without realizing it, had called the matriarch by her first name.
Telling.
Had there been something between them, close friends perhaps, or more?

Wanting to refuse the cup, since it was Madelyne’s favorite, made BJ feel churlish. However, she just couldn’t think kindly toward a woman who could hide secrets while offering morsels to string people along.

Sidney set the cup then busied himself back at the stove.

 “Sidney?”

“Yes?” His back remained to her.

“Tell me about her … Ms. Madelyne.”

With a slight hesitation, he reached for the boiling kettle of water. When he turned, a smile in place, his eyes were shuttered. After pouring the water into both cups, he replaced the pot on the stove. When he returned he took a chair across from BJ at the breakfast bar.

Was he aware that Madelyne had hidden BJ’s past? Was he a party to her duplicity?

“What would you like to know?”

Plenty—everything.
Anything that would tell her why this woman would inflict such pain. Madelyne could have revealed BJ’s past before now? Was the gift of inheritance a way of paying for wrongs she perpetrated upon BJ?

Dipping the bag of Lady Grey into the water, BJ reflected that her life here of late had been much like the tea bag—up and down and swirled around at whim. And now she was about to be turned topsy-turvy, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to keep the past from meeting the present … except not go to the vault.

“Tell me how you came to work for her. What was she like? Did you like working for her? How long have you worked here anyway?” BJ stopped, feeling a little foolish with her rush of questions.

“I’ll start with your last question first.” He took a swig of tea setting the cup back on the counter.

“After being in the military for twenty years, I retired. Never married and no family to speak of, I didn’t have any particular place in mind to settle down. One place was as good as the next.

“I was passing through Serenity and heard The Rose was looking for a steward. I applied. Mr. O’Connell hired me on the spot. I believe, with his military background, my Air Force experience had a lot to do with why he offered me the job. And I’ve been here ever since. Thirty-six years now.” Sidney hesitated, a reflective glint in his eyes. “At first, I didn’t really know what I was doing, but over time …”

BJ enjoyed listening to Sidney. She tucked away the small scraps he offered about Madelyne, tidbits of information he’d unwittingly given to her, her appetite ravenous for knowledge of someone who could be so devious, yet liked so well by those in her employ.

The desire to become familiar and understand the woman who had taken pains to autocratically arrange BJ’s life was first and foremost. Questions churned, tumbled, pulverizing all her previous notions of who she believed the woman to be. Irritated, that while Sidney talked, the ever-tipping scale of knowledge that the woman had been impeccably charitable left BJ with the knowledge she would never begin to comprehend Madelyne’s complexities. Her thrust for knowledge of the woman, who played god with her life and now dangled the carrot of hidden secrets in front of her nose, outweighed all reason.

Yet, when Sidney finished, Madelyne Loveless McConnell was still a mystery.

T
he sun peeked above the horizon to the east and the sky had turned from black to light blue with gray. The reddish-orange clouds gave off an eerie blood-like glow to the rising sun. Jason normally loved this time in the morning, but not today. Worry festered like an ulcer in his gut. His Jeep bounced over potholes and ruts, spitting rocks pinged his undercarriage. If it hadn’t been for the seat belt holding fast, he would have been a statistic by now.

Up ahead, he saw his ranch truck, but no sign of Mateo. He let up on the gas pedal and stomped the brake, skidding on the gravel and dirt while he cramped his wheels to the left and the Jeep came to a stop at the edge of the drop off. He released his seat belt, jumped down at a run, as dust settled from the air and the forlorn sound of a whining siren grew closer with each second.

Stopping at the rim, he glanced at the cattle off in the distance. Down in the ravine, he spotted two men near the bottom hovered over a form—
Reuben
? The morning sun hadn’t reached the gully and destroyed his ability to see what was taking place.

Jason half-slid, half-ran down the steep angle to the bottom. Mateo looked up at him, his dark eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Jason’s heart slammed against his chest, a scream erupted in his head. He prayed hard as he slid to a stop, pleading for Reuben’s life.

He dropped to his knees. The battered, swollen face of the young man didn’t look like Reuben. Mateo held his shirt to his son’s shoulder, while he spoke gentle, loving words to the unconscious boy.

Sam pressed a blood-sopped rag against Reuben’s chest. He shook his head before looking away, tears brimming at the edge of the old man’s lashes.

“His pulse is weak.” Mateo choked out the words. “And he’s lost so much blood.”

“Found him lying under that there brush.” Sam’s head jerked, indicating a scraggly mesquite a couple of feet up the hill. The old man’s craggy features were riddled with hate and vengeance. “The dirty cowards half drag, half carried, then dumped him there, trying to hide him from sight.” He spat on the ground. “Wouldn’t have found him if the knuckleheads hadn’t left his scatter gun behind. The kid didn’t even get off a shot. It’s still in the chamber.” He spit again and said a few choice words.

A noise at the top of the hill drew their attention. Chief Doggett and two paramedics stared down at them.

The chief shoved his hat further up his forehead. He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Do the paramedics need a stretcher or a body bag?”