“Well, two of our vice guys got one of his cronies to rat him out. They busted Hawkins tonight.”

Rusty smiled as he poured himself a refill. “Hawkins popped off at me a few nights ago, and I looked forward to teaching him a lesson in manners. I knew it wouldn’t take too long for him to transgress, but I didn’t expect it would be this soon.”

“Hope you don’t mind me calling you this late.”

“Not at all, not at all. I’m obliged. What’s your name again?”

The deputy stated it proudly, then went on to describe the arrest. “Hawkins attempted to make a run for it. Splashed through the bayou that runs behind his place, got stuck in the mud. That’s how they caught him.”

Rusty was told that Hawkins had put up a fight, assaulting one of the deputies so viciously, he’d broken his finger. “Didn’t earn him any favors in this department, let me tell you.”

Rusty had listened to the detailed account without interruption, drumming his fingers on the stuffed arm of his chair. When he failed to respond after several moments of silence had elapsed, the deputy said, “Mr. Dyle? You still there?”

“I’m here. Listen, I’d rather Hawkins not be booked until I read the arrest report and look into the case myself, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Tell the deputies who brought him—”

“One’s at the ER getting his broke finger set.”

“The point is, keep Hawkins isolated. Let him simmer some of that meanness out. I’ll come over first thing in the morning.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Dyle.”

“I owe you a favor, Deputy.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

“Sir?”

“You and I never had this conversation. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I trust you do.”

Rusty clicked off. Revived and feeling much better about the big picture, he threw back his drink and unzipped his pants. He was already hard.

Chapter 23

Lisa was in her home office, checking emails and reviewing her schedule for the day, when her housekeeper called to her from the kitchen, “Breakfast is almost ready, Mrs. Bishop. Can I make you a cappuccino?”

“Please. I’ll be right there.”

Helena had worked for Wallace long before his marriage to Lisa. She was an invaluable asset. She ran the household, leaving Lisa free to oversee the management of the company that Wallace had founded and had left in her charge of in his will.

Shortly after relocating herself and Arden to Dallas, she’d been hired by the commercial real estate firm where Wallace Bishop was CEO. Initially Lisa had been an assistant to an assistant, a glorified gofer. But she was a quick study and ambitious. Recognizing those qualities, Wallace had promoted her to work on an elite team personally overseen by him.

Their coworker relationship had led to romance.

He was fifteen years her senior but had never been married. He had welcomed taking on Arden as a dependent. However, he had stipulated that he didn’t want other children. Lisa had accepted that condition, actually with relief. Had Wallace desired a child of his own, she would have reproduced, but forgoing motherhood hadn’t been a sacrifice.

After they married, he’d encouraged her to re-enroll in college and earn her degree, a pursuit she’d regretted having to suspend when she became Arden’s guardian. Wallace had made it easier for her by assuming some of her parental responsibilities. Over the course of those years when he was driving carpool and attending school events with Arden, she and Wallace had grown very fond of each other. They’d remained close until his death. In his will, he’d been as generous to her as he would have been to a progeny born of him.

Lisa often acknowledged that Wallace Bishop was the soundest decision she had ever made. She believed he would feel the same of her, and would be proud of how she had carried on after his death. The company continued to thrive under her leadership.

Now, she double-checked her day planner, then sorted through the stack of snail mail she hadn’t gotten to yesterday. There were the usual invitations and junk, but one envelope caught her eye.

The stationery was a high-quality stock in dove gray. The return address was engraved on the back of the envelope, but it had been addressed by hand. To Arden.

“Mrs. Bishop?” Helena called.

“Coming.”

Thoughtfully, Lisa tapped the envelope against her palm. Then, yielding to temptation before her conscience got the better of her, she opened it.

Arden,

Word reached me today about the loss of the baby. It came to me through channels too intricate to go into here, and how I learned of it doesn’t matter. What does matter, greatly, is that I know how crushing this must have been for you. I wish you had notified me when it happened. I would have provided whatever consolation and support I possibly could, as inadequate as it would have been.

I realize I’m late to the dance, but is there anything I can do for you now? Before leaving Houston, you made it clear that you wanted to make a clean break. I understood and accepted your reasoning then, and I do now. But please know that I’m here for you if you ever feel the need to talk about it.

Jacob

P.S. I mailed this to your sister’s address because it was the only one I had.

“I didn’t want it to get cold.”

Lisa turned and smiled at Helena, who stood in the open doorway holding a steaming, frothy cup of cappuccino. “Thank you.” She laid the envelope aside, went over, and took the cappuccino. “I’ve had a sudden change of plans for the day, Helena. I’m afraid I’ll have to forgo breakfast.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“No, not at all. But I’ll need the company jet today. Can you make that call for me while I cancel some appointments?”

“Of course. What’s your destination?”

“Houston Hobby.”

Helena left her.

Lisa sipped her cappuccino as she returned to her desk and reread the heart-stirring letter to Arden from one Jacob Greene.

Chapter 24

Shee-ut.”

“Good morning, Dwayne,” Rusty said cheerfully. “How’s life treatin’ you?”

Hunkered in the corner of his cot with his back against the wall, the Hawkins miscreant glared at Rusty. Rusty turned to the deputy who’d escorted him to the cell. “Leave us.”

The deputy shot Hawkins a warning look, then turned away and ambled back toward his desk.

Rusty waved his hand in front of his nose. “I can smell you from here, Dwayne. Must be that lake water you got bogged down in last night while you were trying to evade arrest. Then you assaulted a peace officer. My, my.”

“I ain’t talking without a lawyer.”

“Really? Gee, that’s too bad. Because I think you would like hearing what I’ve come to discuss.”

“Whut could you have to say that I’d want to hear?”

“Before we get to that, your disposition needs some readjustment.”

“Whut’s that mean?”

Rusty dropped his amiable grin. “It means, get over here and talk to me with respect, or I’ll bring in someone to work you over good, and claim he was protecting me. When he’s done with you, you’ll be peeing blood and farting out your ears.”

Hawkins mulled it over, then rolled off the cot and slunk over to the bars.

“That’s better,” Rusty said.

“Everybody says you’re crooked as your ol’ man.”

“Do they?” Rusty chuckled. “Well, they’re wrong. He was a pussycat compared to me. Which works to your advantage, Dwayne.”

“Yeah? I ain’t seein’ it.”

“You and I can work together to our mutual benefit.”

Dwayne squinted at him with wary interest. “Doin’ whut?”

“See what happens when you’re courteous and cooperative? We’re making progress already.”

Arden had been at the courthouse when it opened for the day. After consulting the deputy manning the information desk in the lobby, she’d been directed to the second floor and the Sheriff’s Office’s Crimes Against Persons division. There, she’d made her request to one of the detectives, filled out the necessary forms, paid the nominal fee, and then had been instructed to return to the lobby and wait.

That had been almost an hour ago. She couldn’t imagine why it was taking so long. Unless a certain amount of time was required to locate the investigation reports on twenty-year-old crimes.

Finally, the detective with whom she’d dealt arrived with a sealed manila envelope and passed it to her. “Here you go. Sorry it took so long. I had to take a call.”

“You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.” She tucked the envelope under her arm and turned to go.

“Funny. We recently had somebody else request those particular reports.”

Arden stopped and came slowly around. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to think it was funny. “Oh?”

“I guess you moving back here kindled interest in these two investigations.”

This wasn’t welcome news, but she smiled as though unbothered by it. “Who besides me would be interested? Not a producer from one of those unsolved mystery TV shows, I hope.”

He laughed. “Naw. Local boy. Ledge Burnet’s his name. He was in here only a few days ago, asking for the same files.”

“Did he say why?”