Someone Like You (20 page)

“Thanks. I know a few people.” He was sure Jill would have opinions on who would do a good job. For a second he thought about contacting Judge Strathern, but he didn't want to disappoint the old man by telling him what had happened. The judge would hear in time—he
seemed to hear everything. But later was better than sooner.

“I want you to fight this,” the D.A. told him. “You're a good man and good for this town.”

“Tell that to Andy Murphy.”

“He doesn't get a vote in this.”

Mac glanced around the office and thought about what would happen when word got out. Hollis wasn't going to be happy.

“Seems to me he's getting a vote all right. He's calling the shots.” Mac rose. “Not that I didn't earn it. I hit him and now I have to deal with the consequences.” He'd given in to his temper and now he had to pay the price.

“I'll do what I can,” John told him. “But I also have to do my job.”

“I know and I appreciate the support. Let me know when the hearing is.”

 

R
ILEY
W
HITEFIELD APPEARED
to be one of those men who got better with age. He'd been a dark, dangerous teenaged boy who wore black T-shirts tucked into his jeans, motorcycle boots and a gold hoop earring. At seventeen he'd been sexy enough to get any girl he wanted; at thirty-two he'd moved on to women, but Jill was willing to bet they were just as available.

He walked into her office exactly on time. The jeans and T-shirt had been replaced with slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, the gold hoop with a small diamond. But there was still smoldering sensuality just under the surface and the promise of ten kinds of fabulous sin in his eyes.

“I'm sorry about your uncle,” Jill said as she stood and motioned to the chair in front of her desk.

Tina mouthed the words
great butt,
then fanned her self with one hand as she closed the door with the other.

“Donovan and I weren't exactly on speaking terms,” Riley said as he took a seat. “I haven't seen the bastard in nearly ten years, so don't expect me to be sorry he's gone now.”

He'd filled out, she thought as she took in his broad shoulders and muscular chest. Time had been more than kind to Gracie's crush. What on earth would her friend say when Jill told her that Riley had been in her office?

The man in question frowned slightly. “I know this is going to sound like a line, but do I know you?”

“I'm a ghost from your past,” she said with a smile. “I'm the judge's daughter. Jill Strathern.”

His expression remained blank.

“Gracie's best friend.”

That got his attention. Riley stiffened. “Gracie Landon? You knew her?”

“Unfortunately, I was her partner in crime.” Jill held her hands palm up. “Let me just say how sorry I am for everything we ever did to you.”

“Gracie was creative. I'll give her that. And persistent.” He glanced around the room as if expecting her to jump out of a closet. “What's she doing these days?”

“She makes amazingly beautiful wedding cakes. Some of them were just featured in
People
magazine,
which was fabulous. She's been inundated by orders from the rich and famous.”

“Good for her. Does she live in town?”

Jill had to admit she sort of liked seeing the sexy and brooding Riley Whitefield look nervous.

“Los Angeles.”

“Ah.”

“She never visits.”

Riley visibly relaxed in his chair. “So, about the will.”

“Yes. The will.” Jill pulled out a folder and handed it to him. “Your uncle left most of his sizable estate to you. I've made a copy of the will for you to read at your leisure. It's fairly long, with lots of asides and opinions. There are a few donations to charities.”

Riley didn't bother opening the folder. “I'm surprised,” he said. “I didn't think the old man had it in him.”

“I know the two of you were estranged, but your uncle did a lot for the town. He will be missed by many.”

Riley's dark eyes filled with loathing. “At the risk of sounding like a complete bastard, I don't give a shit. As far as I'm concerned, my uncle was a miserly old prick who lived to torture those less well-off. He let his own sister die of cancer. By the time I learned she was sick, it was too late. After her death I found a letter she'd writ ten to him asking for money for the operation that could have saved her life. He sent it back, along with a note telling her to get help from the government.”

Jill didn't know what to say. “I'm sorry,” she murmured.

“So am I. I was nineteen at the time. Fresh off my divorce. I'd left town to make my way in the world and my mother knew I didn't have any money myself. Of course if she'd told me what was going on, I would have gotten it out of her brother one way or another. But she didn't. The first I knew anything was wrong was when the county hospital called to tell me she was dying.” He leaned forward. “So I don't care about my uncle's donations to charity. I want to take whatever he's leaving me and spend it in a way that will make him turn over in his grave. I consider it a personal mission.”

She could understand his need for revenge. Riley didn't strike her as the kind of man who would forgive and forget. There was also the fact that his uncle had committed an unforgivable act of neglect. To have turned away his own sister. She shivered.

“I'm surprised you didn't try to get back at him while he was still alive,” she said.

Riley relaxed back in his chair. “Who's saying I didn't? As far as I could tell, the only thing he loved in his life was that damn bank. But times have been hard on financial institutions and he'd been forced to take on a partner.”

Jill had heard something about that. “You?”

Riley nodded. “Just as soon as I find out who he's left his share to, I plan to buy them out and close the bank.”

“Yes, well, there are some complications.”

“Of course there are.” He crossed his legs, resting his right ankle on his left knee. “Tell me about them.”

Jill knew he wasn't going to like what she had to say. “While you are your uncle's sole heir, the inheritance isn't left to you outright. His share of the bank, along with the assets, will be given to you upon meeting his conditions.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Which are?”

“You have to become respectable. Apparently your uncle was concerned about what he called your wild ways. Therefore to inherit his portion of the bank and his assets, you have to run for mayor of Los Lobos and win. The election is next June. That gives you just over ten months to make this happen.”

Riley stood and crossed to the far side of the room. Despite the heat of the moment, Jill couldn't help but notice the butt Tina had admired. It was pretty amazing.

“He was smart,” Riley said contemptuously. “I can just walk away, right?”

“Sure. If you want. The assets go to charity and the bank gets sold.”

“Great. I can buy it and—”

She shook her head. “You can't. He makes it clear you're not allowed to bid on the bank if you don't meet the conditions of the will.” There was one more thing. She wasn't sure if Riley would consider it good or bad.

“Your uncle's assets were considerable. If you don't go through with running for mayor, you're not just
walking away from the bank, you're turning your back on a lot of cash.”

“How much?” Riley asked.

“After taxes?” She pushed a few buttons on her calculator. “My conservative estimate is ninety-seven million dollars.”

M
AC ROUNDED
the corner by Jill's office only to nearly run into someone coming the other way. He took a step back to apologize, then stared in disbelief at the man standing there.

Tall, dark with perfect features. He even recognized the scar by the right corner of the guy's mouth—Mac had been the one to give it to him.

Mac shoved his hands into his slack pockets—whether to keep from shaking hands or punching, he wasn't sure—and allowed his surprise to show in his voice.

“Riley Whitefield. I never expected to see you back here.”

Riley frowned. “Mac? Holy hell.” He looked him up and down. “You're the sheriff?”

At least for the next couple of months, Mac thought grimly. Until he'd taken his temper out on Andy Murphy, the last fight Mac had been in had been his senior year of high school, and his opponent had been Riley. Funny how both events had completely changed his life.

“What brings you to town?” Mac asked, ignoring Riley's question. “You're not staying long, are you?”

Riley grinned. “I see you're still determined to be
one of the good guys. Guess that means you're still finishing last.”

The comment cut a little too close to home for Mac's liking. “You didn't answer my question.”

“Going to run me in if I don't?” Riley glanced around at the shops on either side of the street, at the overgrown trees and the kids playing in the park on the corner. “It looks the same. I can't decide if that's good or bad.”

Mac shrugged.

“I'm here because my uncle passed away. I had to stop by and see the lawyer handling the case.”

Jill, Mac thought, and wondered what she'd thought of his old friend.

“Get your check?” Mac asked.

“It's a little more complicated than that. But I'll be taking everything that old bastard had.”

Mac remembered how Donovan Whitefield had made his nephew's life hell. He'd heard that the cheap son of a bitch had let his own sister die of cancer rather than pay for her medical bills. While he might not want Riley around making trouble, he couldn't blame the man for hating his uncle.

“Got a time frame?” Mac asked.

“You that eager to get rid of me?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sorry, Mac. I'm going to have to become a temporary resident. But don't worry. It's just until I satisfy the terms of my uncle's will. I don't want to be here any more than you want me here. See ya.”

With that, Riley walked to the curb and climbed into
his car. A rental, Mac thought, taking in the stickers on the back of the rearview mirror. So what had become of the man who had once been his best friend? Where did he live and what did he do?

Mac would put money on Riley being successful, regardless of his occupation.

He glanced toward Jill's office, then turned and headed back the other way. He didn't want to talk to her right now. Not while he had questions about Riley and the will and he knew she wouldn't give him answers.

Funny how he thought taking the job of sheriff in Los Lobos would mean long, slow, boring days. Right now he could use a little dull in his life, but it didn't look as if he was going to get it.

 

J
ILL CAME HOME
to an empty house and an uncomfortable silence. She didn't need to check around to realize that her aunt was still out of town with Rudy, although she did push the flashing message light button.

“Hi, Jill, it's Bev. Rudy and I are still in San Francisco. It's so beautiful here, I can see why you love it. We're going to stay a few more days. I've made arrangements for Emily to stay with my friend Chris during the day. Chris has that fabulous craft store by the supermarket. She teaches classes and Emily will simply love it. Anyway, I'm fine.” Her aunt sighed, then laughed. “Better than fine. Rudy's amazing.” She lowered her voice. “I'll fill you in on the details when I get home. Love you.”

There was a click, then the message ended.

Jill stared at the machine. “How much of this im
promptu visit is about young love and how much of it is you avoiding me, Rudy?”

She still didn't know what to think about all that had happened. What other secrets had he been keeping from her?

She hated to have been played for a fool, but there was no other way around it. Rudy had acted all normal and righteous around her, but in truth he was a criminal.

“It shouldn't be a surprise,” she told herself. “You knew he was a snake when you let him in.”

True, but she'd thought he was a good snake.

In her bedroom she found a Post-it note on her mirror and a letter tucked into the frame. The Post-it reminded her of a pier committee meeting in a couple of days. The time for the celebration neared and there was plenty of work to be done.

“I get to stuff goodie bags,” Jill muttered. “What a fabulous use of my talent.”

The letter was an offer from the firm in San Diego. She fingered the expensive paper, but didn't pull it out and read it again.

The job offer was fabulous. Great salary and benefits. A clear plan for promotion. A chance to learn about different industries while continuing to advance in her specialties. As she'd been careful to never mention her relationship with Rudy and the potential three million in billing, they wouldn't miss the money. It was perfect. So why hadn't she called?

Jill didn't have an answer, although she knew she should. Was she waiting to hear back from the partners at her old firm in San Francisco? Did she think that
they would suddenly discover Lyle was a rat fink lying weasel dog and beg her to return?

“Pathetic but true,” she said as she began to change her clothes.

Her gaze dropped to the phone on the nightstand. Should she call Gracie and tell her that Riley was back in town? Would her friend want to know? Jill had warned him there would be a lot of interest in his return and he'd given her permission to say he was going to be around dealing with the contents of his uncle's will and that was it.

Gracie would have a lot of questions that Jill wasn't prepared to answer. Nor did she think her friend wanted to hear that her one-time crush still looked like a walking, breathing poster for a female sexual fantasy.

She pulled a T-shirt over her head and walked to her window. From there she could see Mac's house. The truck was in the driveway. It was too early for lights to be on, but she could hear noises from next door. He was home.

She ached for him and not just for the afternoon of lovemaking that had been derailed. She missed talking to him—both for what he had to say and for the sound of his voice. She missed laughing with him and seeing him smile. She missed Emily.

But after what had happened, she wasn't sure if they were still speaking. She could tell herself that none of it was her fault, but she still felt some measure of guilt. Rudy had come to Los Lobos because of her. She hadn't listened when Mac had warned her the man was trouble. Then Mac had lost his temper and taken it out on
Andy Murphy. Not that the wife-beater didn't deserve it, but there were consequences for Mac. Huge ones.

Still, there was no point in wishing for the moon, she told herself as she turned away from the window and walked toward the stairs. If Mac wanted to get in touch with her, he knew exactly where to find her. She wasn't going to be the one to go crawling to him.

 

S
OMETIME AFTER TEN
, Mac told himself he had to go up to bed. The way his days were going, he needed his sleep to stay sharp, or at least not to be stupid again.

He and Emily had spent a quiet evening together, playing games, then watching a video. He treasured the closeness as she snuggled against him, giving him the honor of holding Elvis. He liked the way she smiled at him during the funny parts of the movie and how she'd flung herself at him when Ariel had gotten herself into some trouble and had whispered she knew Mac could save her.

He liked being both her father and her hero. So what the hell was going to happen to the love in her eyes when he was officially charged and lost custody of his daughter?

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to deal with it, but there it was—waiting for him. Lurking and giving him a knot in his stomach. He'd been a fool and now he had to pay the price.

“Anything but Emily,” he said aloud. He would cut off his arm rather than lose her.

A knock on the door caused him to sit up and glance at his watch. Who would come calling now?

He knew who he wanted it to be, but Jill wasn't likely to show up at his door. Not after all that had happened between them. Still, he hadn't heard a car pull up.

Expectation propelled him to his feet. He crossed to the door and pulled it open. Pleasure poured through him.

“It's not what you think,” Jill said as she pushed past him and walked into the living room. “I am absolutely not crawling here. I'm walking with strength and dignity. As your friend and as an attorney, I feel it's important to discuss certain things with you. As with all free advice, you can ignore it, but in this case, you'd be a complete ass to do so. Am I making myself clear?”

She stood there, spine stiff, shoulders back. Determination radiated from her and, even in her shorts and T-shirt, she looked damned impressive. He would have wanted her under any circumstances, but it was her long curly hair that did him in.

He grabbed her and pulled her against him. “I've missed you,” he said right before he kissed her.

Her mouth instantly yielded. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she molded her body to his. Her scent and her heat surrounded him, offering comfort and promise. Or maybe that's what he wanted to read into it all.

She was the one who drew back a few seconds later. “We have to talk.”

Four words every man in the universe, except maybe Dr. Phil, would rather eat glass than hear. “Can't we just go upstairs and make love instead?”

She hesitated. “I'm tempted.”

“Good.”

He took her hand with the intent to lead the way, but instead he found himself curling his fingers around hers and tugging her toward the sofa. He could never admit this to another living soul, especially not another guy, but maybe they did need to talk.

“How are you?” she asked when she had settled next to him on the sofa, her body angled toward his, their knees touching.

“Fine.”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“Okay, I feel like shit. What was I thinking?” He straightened and slid to the front of the sofa where he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head to his hands. “I risked everything by punching out that bastard. He's a human cockroach and he's going to cost me Emily.”

“You don't know that.”

He turned his head to look at her. “I'm going to be formally charged. Hollis has already called to set up an appointment. I'll put him off as long as I can, but you and I both know it's just a matter of time.”

Jill rubbed her hand across his back. “You need a lawyer, Mac. Someone brilliant. I want to ask around and find the right person.”

“Not you?”

“No. First of all, we have a personal relationship and that's a serious no-no. Second, I don't handle criminal cases.”

“A lawyer isn't going to be able to change what I did. I lost my temper and now I have to pay the price.”

“But Andy deserved it.”

“Are you sure?” Mac straightened. “Does anyone deserve to be beaten by someone in authority?”

“He does it to his wife. He's breaking bones.”

“An eye for an eye?” he asked.

She glared at him. “If you're going to take the moral high ground, I'm not having this conversation with you.”

“Okay. Then just have sex with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it toward him. Knowing she was watching, he pressed an openmouthed kiss to her palm and had the satisfaction of feeling her shiver.

“You're not playing fair,” she whispered.

“I'm a guy, sweetheart, and I want you naked. There is no fair.”

She cupped his jaw. “I have to tell you something first.”

He didn't like the sound of that. “I'm reasonably confident it's not that you were once a man.”

The corners of her lips quivered, but she didn't smile. “No, it's not that. Riley Whitefield is back in town and he might be staying for a while.”

Mac already knew that firsthand, but he appreciated Jill wanting to tell him.

“I know. We ran into each other earlier today.”

Her eyes widened. “You're kidding. How was it?”

“Weird.” He flopped back on the sofa. “It's been a long time and yet it felt like yesterday. Funny how
Riley was the last guy I had a fight with and he shows up now. Maybe it's a sign.”

“Of what?”

“I haven't a clue.”

She shifted close and rested her hand on his chest. “Did you guys talk?”

“We spoke, but it wasn't friendly.”

“You used to be best friends. What happened?”

“A lot of things.”

He put his hand on top of hers and laced their fingers together. He and Riley had been best friends forever. They'd been on the fringe of bad, getting into trouble, staying out late, drinking and, as they got older, racing their cars. But at the beginning of their senior year, something had happened to fundamentally change their relationship. Mac had stolen Judge Strathern's Caddy and had taken it for a joyride. And he'd been caught.

“When your dad came to talk to me after I stole his car, I thought I was totally screwed,” Mac admitted, remembering the fear of that long-ago morning. A long night in the local jail had given him plenty of time to imagine the worst.

“He can be pretty intimidating,” she admitted. “If you haven't seen him dancing around the house in his underwear.”

Mac chuckled. “I'll admit I never have.”