After the Rain (The Callahans) (26 page)

“So what do you say?” he asked, pulling back a moment later and showing her the ring again.

She wiped at her eyes. “To what? You didn’t really ask me anything. If you’re trying to propose, you have to do it right, Sheriff.”

He looked dumbfounded for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. “Okay. Have it your way.” He stood up, pulling her with him, and waited until she was standing. Then he knelt down on one knee and their eyes locked. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation, and jumped into his arms once he’d stood up again. “God, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, baby. More than you’ll ever know.” After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes glancing over her shoulder.

Following his gaze, she saw Kate and Richard standing on the steps of the school. Kate had tears running down her face. “You two are the sweetest couple I’ve ever seen,” she said, on a hiccup. “I want to go to Arizona.”

Trey narrowed his gaze as though Kate was from Mars and Kylie laughed.

“Kate Nyland and Richard Melzo, meet Trey Callahan.”

Richard and Trey shook hands. Kate just stood there, sizing Trey up a second time.

“I thought you were leaving,” Kylie reminded her friends.

“And miss this? Not on your life. You know me better than that.” Kate looked up at Trey, emphatically. “We were going to go get toasted and then drunk dial you.”

Trey looked at Kate evenly and then turned to Kylie. “You were going to drunk dial me?”

“Not exactly—” Kylie said, shooting Kate a deadly look.

“Okay,
I
was going to drunk dial you,” Kate said, grinning. “She doesn’t have the balls to.”

“You don’t hold anything back, do you?” Trey said to Kate.

“Nope, not really. I like you though so don’t worry. I think we’re going to get along great. Especially if you happen to have any hot, single brothers that look like you, or even half as good. The one who plays baseball will do.”

“Jeeze, Kate,” Kylie said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t suppose you still want to go out for margaritas,” Richard suggested, setting a pair of aviator sunglasses on his nose. “Then you’ll see just how honest she can be.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” Trey said, though his expression had softened.

“Sure you are. We can take my car.” Kate suddenly frowned and she looked up at him again. “Wait a minute, you’re a cop. Maybe you should drive.”

“Why? Are you worried about something?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, no. But I get nervous enough just having a police officer tailing me from behind, I sure as hell don’t need one in the car next to me.”

Trey rolled his eyes and Kylie laughed.

KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT
FROM BOOK 2 OF THE CALLAHAN SERIES

IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

(DUE OUT IN SUMMER 2013)

IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

(Coming in Summer 2013)

1

Beau Callahan turned the volume up on the radio as he climbed into his truck. He was beat. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night. He had crossed the Montana state line two hours earlier, after driving straight through from Texas. Hours and hours, he’d been on the road, only stopping for essential food and bathroom breaks. Hence, the stop he’d just made at the Jiffy Mart off the highway. He’d stocked himself up with a couple of candy bars and a six-pack of Coke. Neither were things he would normally eat.

As a baseball player in the MLB, Beau had a physique to keep up. He had a multimillion-dollar deal with the Texas Rangers that rode on his good health. Lucky for him, the season had ended a month earlier. It had not ended well. For the second year in a row, the Rangers hadn’t made it to the play-offs, let alone the World Series. He’d been to the World Series twice in his eleven year career —hell he’d even been MVP. From that point on, things had gone downhill.

Sighing, he ripped into a Snickers bar and took a large mouthful, not bothering to start his truck yet. He looked out the window at the well-lit area. So far, he didn’t remember a stitch about Montana. He knew he’d been here a few years back with some friends. They’d stayed at a family cabin somewhere in the hills. Riverdale was not in the hills. It was a medium sized city, not far from Missoula. Beau knew his brother, Trey, was now on the narcotics squad with the Riverdale police, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine the job being very interesting. Did people really do that many drugs in a city this size in Montana? He guessed they must or his brother wouldn’t have a job.

Thinking of Trey, Beau felt bad. Two months earlier, his brother had gotten married. He had married his girlfriend of about a year, Kylie Rhodes. They had tied the knot back in Callahan, Arizona, on the family farm. Beau had missed the wedding. He’d been on the road with the team and hadn’t been able to get away. Or rather, he just hadn’t
bothered
to. He’d had his reasons of course—all of which he wasn’t about to share with his family. So naturally, they were all pissed—most of all, his favorite older brother.

During their childhood years, Beau had idolized the ground Trey walked on. As they had gotten older, they had been thicker than thieves. They were only a couple of years apart. Trey was thirty-three now and Beau was thirty-one. Dusty was the oldest at thirty-five. Only girl, Elle, was twenty-nine and Joey was the baby in the family at twenty-three.

Hearing his cell phone buzz, he checked the caller ID. He recognized the number and picked up the call.

“Mr. Callahan? Detective Mumford here. Is this a bad time?”

Beau grimaced. There was never a good time for things like this. “It’s as good a time as any.”

“Good. I have some of the preliminary findings back in the investigation on the burglary at your home. There was one set of unidentified fingerprints, which we ran and came up empty. All the other prints belonged to either yourself or your housekeeper.” Detective Mumford paused. “There was really nothing else to go on.”

This didn’t surprise Beau. “I appreciate the call.”

“Have you received any more letters?”

“No, I’ve been on the road for a while though. I haven’t checked my mail.” His housekeeper paid his bills and set the rest of it aside for him to go through when he made it home.

“It might be a good idea to have someone check it for you if you won’t be back for a while. Maybe you could have it forwarded to you.”

That was the last thing Beau wanted, but he agreed for the detective’s sake. After disconnecting the call, Beau took a long swig of Coke.

The break in at his home had not been the first one. It had only been the worst. This time, the person had taken a knife to his things. His mattress and his box spring were ruined. The 1968 Chevy Camaro he kept in his locked garage had been totaled. The tires on his Harley had been slashed. The only reason the truck he was driving had been unscathed was because his friend had borrowed it for the weekend.

This person—this maniac who obviously had a beef with Beau—was getting bolder. He had managed to track the Rangers on the road a time or two and cause havoc with security. His message was always the same; he wanted Beau to pay.

The first letter had been a vague threat. Beau usually got a few of those a month when things were going badly for him on the field. The next few letters got more and more threatening. Then the break-ins started. At one point, the man had broken in when his housekeeper had been there and nearly scared the daylights out of her. Luckily, he’d run off scared and she had escaped unharmed.

After that, Beau had spent less and less time at home in Arizona. This wacko was trying to tail him and he was terrified to put his family in danger. So here he was in Riverdale, praying he’d managed not to leave a trail as to his whereabouts—and hoping he could make amends with his brother and his new sister-in-law.

Starting up the truck, he shifted into reverse and let off the brake. He felt the bump and heard the bang. Someone had hit his truck.

Cursing, he put the vehicle in park and opened his door. Jumping out, he prepared to let someone have it. Damn it, he didn’t have time for this. He was beat. All he wanted was a warm bed and some peace and quiet. Of course, that was too much to ask for.

“What the hell?” a female voice said, from behind him. He walked to the rear of the vehicle and found her standing there staring at the place where their vehicles were joined at the bumper. He cursed again.

“This is just great,” she snapped, before he could say a word. “I can’t believe you just hit me.”

“Are you blind?” he asked, pulling his baseball cap down further over his eyes. He hoped she wasn’t anyone who would recognize him. He wasn’t in the mood for fanfare.

“Me?” She looked up at him, her brown eyes narrowed in irritation. “
You
are the one who hit
me
.”

“I did
not
hit you. I was backing up at a reasonable speed and you were barreling through the damned parking lot like the Batmobile.”

Her eyes grew wide and she frowned at him. “That is not what happened and you know it. You didn’t look before you backed up.”

Had he?
He honestly couldn’t remember. Even so, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“Call the cops,” she snapped, irritably. “That’s what you’re supposed to do when an accident occurs.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary? If I bounce on your bumper it will come loose.”

“You are not going to bounce on anything. You need to be cited for your reckless driving. Do you have proof of insurance?”

Now he was getting pissed. Leave it to him to get hit by the most irritating woman in the state. He cursed again. “I already told you, I didn’t hit you. You hit me. You’re the one going forward.”

“And you are the one who backed up without looking.” A tiny little thing, she did her best to hold her chin up high. “Police officers can tell that sort of thing you know. They’ll be able to determine this was your fault, right away.”

“I’m sure they have more important crime to fight than this.”

She scowled. “Don’t try to manipulate me, Mister. I’m calling the police.” She pulled out her cell phone while he waited impatiently, figuring she had made up her mind. There went his early bedtime. Tapping his foot, he grimaced while she pounded on her phone.

“The battery’s dead,” she finally announced.

“That’s a shame.” He stood there waiting to see what she would do next.

“Well, don’t you have a cell phone?”

“I do,” he confirmed, but made no move to retrieve it.

“For goodness sakes, get it,” she demanded, her big, brown eyes narrowing in anger.

“I don’t need my phone because I don’t want to call the police. You are wasting your time—and mine.” He gestured around them. “It’s late at night and there’s nobody around that’s going to corroborate your story. It’s your word against mine. We will probably both be sited. What’s that going to solve?”

She scowled and started mumbling under her breath. “Great job, Kate. Just great. A perfect ending to a perfect night.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” he asked, frowning.

Now she glowered at him. “I’m thinking out loud.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look, I can have us out of here in two minutes if you let me. Make up your mind.”

He could tell he was wearing her down. Shivering, she pulled her coat around herself, tightly. “Oh go ahead and get the cars apart,” she snapped, obviously knowing when she was licked.

He had them both free seconds later. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet. “Here’s a couple hundred bucks. You can get the scratch in your bumper buffed out if you want to.” He held the money out to her.

“I’m not a charity case.”

“Huh?” He stared at her, dumbly.

“You obviously don’t feel you hit me, so why should you pay for my bumper?”

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. “Are you high?”

“Keep your money for your own bumper,” she snapped, stomping back to her SUV. “And watch where the hell you’re going next time.”

Beau watched her climb into the vehicle and back up, her eyes never leaving his—at least not until he heard a crash again. She had just backed into the telephone pole behind her.

Sighing, he contemplated just getting into his truck and leaving. Hell, it wasn’t his truck she’d hit this time. This was not his problem.

He looked at her through the windshield. Her eyes were closed now but he had to hand it to her, she wasn’t bawling her head off like most females would do.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, he walked over and tapped on the window.

When she finally rolled it down, she was glowering at him again. “Go ahead, laugh.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said, keeping a straight face. “You’re dangerous. Do you even have a license?”

“Very funny.” She opened the car door, nearly hitting him in the process, and jumped out of her rig a second time. They both walked around to the back of her SUV and surveyed the damage. This time it was significant. Her entire back door was caved in.

“You should have quit while you were ahead,” he said, backing up and folding his arms over his chest. “Perhaps we should call the police now. I believe you’ve damaged city property.”

She let out an expletive and stomped back to her car. She jumped in and started the engine, this time managing to put the SUV into gear and move it, without slamming into something. She sped off with a screech.

Shaking his head, Beau climbed back into his own truck and backed up, this time being careful to check all his mirrors, just in case she came back for some reason. When he was sure the coast was clear, he headed out onto the avenue and turned toward his brother’s house.

It took him only a few minutes to locate the nicely landscaped neighborhood, only a few miles from the center of the city. Elm trees lined the street on both sides. Beau checked his notes for the house number. He found it seconds later and pulled up in front of the house.

Small
was an understatement. It looked like a tiny cracker box. Was his brother that hard up for money? He didn’t imagine so. Trey was a saver. He’d had a lot of money put away when he’d moved to Montana to be with Kylie. He had a good job now. Not only that, Kylie worked too, as a first grade teacher.