Intimate Illusions [The Callens 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (17 page)

“That’s the owner’s golden touch.”

“Who would that be?”

“Heather Ransom.”

Oh, shit
. The chances that both Devonne’s store manager and this owner had the same first name seemed slim.

“Is Heather here?”

“I’m afraid she only comes in the evening and on Thursdays.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Do you have a card?”

Crap
. Now what was she going to do?

“Yes.” She opened her purse and looked through the contents. “Damn. I’ve left mine at home. I’ll stop by tomorrow with my card.”

“No problem, Ms. Watterson.”

She turned and took metered steps until she was out the door. Devonne’s shoulders were as still as a fence post. As soon as she turned the corner, the expletives flew.

He understood her frustration. Taking her by the shoulder, he turned her toward him and hugged her tight. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Fucking-A we will.”

His heart ached. “I wish I could take away your pain.”

She leaned back. Her eyes shimmered. “Me, too.”

“What’s next?”

“How about some lunch? I need to calm down before I confront Heather. Maybe it’s all a mistake, but I recognized the clothes that I’m missing, and they’re in
her
store.”

“Did you know Heather had a store?”

“Hell, no. I thought I kept her so busy that she didn’t have time for anything. She’s always telling me how tired she is, but I never guessed the reason why.” Devonne stabbed a hand through her hair. “I’ve been on the road too long. I should have kept closer tabs on her.”

He escorted her to the car. “It’s not your fault. You did the best you could.”

“Bullshit. It is my fault. The buck stops at the owner.”

He had no answer for that. She was right. They piled into the car. “Where to?”

“There’s a cute café right down the street from my shop. It’s late, so we’ll miss the lunch crowd.”

He said nothing as he headed back to her store. They had to park three blocks away, but he figured the walk would do her good. He ordered a burger, but she only wanted a salad.

“You have to eat.”

She huffed out a laugh. “This is eating. I’m not hungry. The coffee is what I really need.”

“To jack you up some more?”

She glowered at him. “There are times when it is best to leave the beast alone.”

He burst out laughing at her attempt to look mean. “Duly warned.”

Once they finished their meal, she seemed a bit calmer. “I have to paint on a happy face. God, but I hate pretending.”

Since Devonne seemed to need her distance, he walked alongside her but said nothing. As soon as they walked in the store, the first thing he noticed was the delicious scent. He couldn’t identify the smell, but he knew he liked it. The aroma reminded him of Devonne.

The boutique wasn’t large, but everything appeared high-end, from the ornate mirrors on the wall to the display racks. Three women were browsing, and two well-dressed women were by their sides. He guessed they were employees there to help in the selection process. One of the women looked up and smiled. She tapped the customer on the shoulder, said something, and dashed down the aisle.

“You’re back!” While the woman’s voice didn’t carry, she was bustling with enthusiasm.

“I just got here.” Devonne gave her a hug. “Heather e-mailed me and said we’d have some issues.”

“Yes. It’s terrible. Heather’s in the office.”

“Thanks.” Devonne nodded and strode toward the back. He didn’t want her to have to handle Heather alone, so he followed her. She spun around. “I want to do this myself.”

From her pinched lips, it was a matter of need rather than a desire. “You’re the boss.”

Her smile came out weak. Once Devonne disappeared, he edged his way to the door. If there was a confrontation, he wanted to be there. The thick door prevented him from hearing, but he would have heard if a fight broke out.

She must have spent fifteen minutes inside. Hopefully, Devonne was learning about what items had been taken. He prayed she wouldn’t confront Heather. That could turn into something ugly. The door opened, and Heather and Devonne were in an embrace.

She looked up. “Oh.” She spun around and faced Heather. “I brought back a souvenir from Wyoming.”

Max held out his hand and put on his best imitation of a rancher. “Howdy, ma’am.” He winked at Devonne then turned back to Heather. “They sure do grow ’em mighty purdy in California.”

He inwardly groaned. When Heather blushed at the compliment, he knew he’d pulled off a fine acting job. Devonne threaded her arm in his. “Ready to see some of Los Angeles’s finest sights?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

Devonne looked over her shoulder. “Keep an eye on the inventory.”

“Oh, I will.”

From the strength in Devonne’s grip, things hadn’t gone well.

Once outside, she faced him. “I want to press criminal charges against that bitch.”

“Remind me never to cross you.”

“For men, I’ll use a knife.”

He had to laugh if only to diffuse the situation. “I’m thinking my reflexes are a bit faster than yours, but I’ll keep that threat in mind. I trust our next stop is the police station?”

After the sergeant took their statement, he downloaded their evidence in his computer. “The problem I see is that you never got a shot of the inside of the truck. You don’t know if he had more boxes in the back. You also didn’t follow him back to the warehouse. He might have had the wrong boxes in the first place.”

Devonne expected this resistance. She pulled out the invoices from the warehouse and what Heather wrote down as having arrived. “Can you see that twenty boxes were sent, but only fifteen were logged in as received?”

The officer studied her receipts. “Yes.”

“Here’s another receipt. On this one, I order sixteen boxes, but only twelve were received.” She let him ponder the discrepancy.

“Hmm. Since the driver and your manager kissed, that could imply he’s working for her.”

“Add in the fact that the clothes
I
ordered, but never received, ended up in Heather’s store and yes, I’m accusing her of the theft.”

“Let me speak with my supervisor and see if we can get a warrant to search her records. She’d have to have a bill of sale for these goods, right?”

“Yes, and she won’t.”

“Maybe next time you should supervise the unloading of the items.”

“I’ll do that.” She felt bad enough for shirking her responsibilities, but she had trusted Heather.

She pushed back her chair, not sure if she was happy or not with the result. Once they got outside, wonderful Max gave her a hug.

“You want to get some dinner?”

“I think I’d rather pick up something at the grocery store and eat in the condo. I’m beat.”

He kissed her forehead. “Sounds wonderful to me.”

She directed him to the store since she wanted to pick up some staples. She wouldn’t be going back to Wyoming anytime soon and had to have food. She needed more evidence that Heather, or someone, was stealing from her.

At the store, Max’s cell rang. “Brian?”

His shoulders sagged, sending her senses to alert. She stopped pushing the cart.

“I’m in California. Let him sit in jail for a while. Any damage?”

He had to be talking about Ian. Dear God, what had he done?

“In a few days. Thanks for calling me.” His jaw hardened. “Apparently, my twin couldn’t wait for me to get out of town before cutting loose.”

“What happened?”

“He got drunk. Someone must have tossed him an insult because he punched the guy out. Jackson, my brother-in-law, stopped the fight. The guy was an out-of-towner whose wife had come just for the charity show. He threatened to sue if the police didn’t throw him in jail.”

She stepped closer and gave him a hug. “You don’t know any other details?”

“No, but that’s Ian being Ian.”

She didn’t like that Max was always putting him down. “Your brother isn’t as irresponsible as you think.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh, yeah? How did you draw that conclusion?”

“He seemed very intent on picking the best cattle when we went to the auction.”

“I’ll give him that, but he doesn’t take initiative in running the farm. He’d rather ride around town in his new truck than haul feed.”

Since she didn’t want to get into a pissing match about Ian, she went in search of the rest of the meal. Neither of them seemed to be in a particularly good mood, but perhaps some good food would change their outlook.

After she paid for their groceries, Max carried the bag to her car. She let him pull out of the lot before she asked again about Ian. “Are you going to call Ian and ask for his side of the story?”

“If he’s in jail, they would have confiscated his cell.”

“Why do you think he lost control?”

“He’s Ian.”

That wasn’t a good answer, but it was probably the best she was going to get. Since the grocery store was near her condo, they arrived in no time. Max said nothing after his comment about Ian. This wasn’t a good start to the evening.

Inside, she emptied the contents. “I’ll start dinner. You want to help?” Maybe if they did something together, she could draw him back in.

“Sure.”

“Can you make a salad?”

“Can I win at chess?”

She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or attempting to be funny. She handed him the ingredients and a large bowl. “Go for it.”

She got out a pot and set in on the stove to boil. After she mixed the meat with some other ingredients, she rolled the meatballs and sautéed them. The water boiled and she dropped in the spaghetti. Max made the salad, but from the way he slowly ripped apart each piece of lettuce, his mind was in Wyoming.

After the meal was finished cooking, she served up the food and brought the dishes over to the table. She hadn’t wanted to broach Max’s plans, but she needed to know where they stood. He’d come to California to help her find the criminal. Now that job lay in the hands of the police.

“How long can you stay?” She’d love to have him around for the next few weeks, but she suspected he wanted to check on the ranch.

“I have to leave as soon as possible.”

“I understand.” She twirled her spaghetti on her spoon and ate a large bite. “I was thinking that once this mess clears, I’ll head on back to Intrigue.”

He stopped his fork in midbite. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Not only did his words hurt, but his lack of eye contact told her a lot. “Why?”

“Ian is not a responsible person. You’ll only get hurt, and I told you that we come as a package deal.”

He was not going to succeed at pushing her away. “I’m in love with Ian.”
I’m in love with you, too.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“He’s a smooth one. Believe me, if you come visit, he may have moved on.”

She didn’t think that was true. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Please don’t.” He pushed back from his chair and headed into the bedroom leaving the food mostly uneaten on his plate.

“Where are you going?” She got up and followed him.

“To pack.”

“You can pack after you eat.”

“I think I’d better head to the airport and see if I can get a flight home tonight. If I can’t, I’ll spend the night at the airport hotel.”

She watched him stuff his clothes in his suitcase. With each shirt he crammed in, her heart splintered. Didn’t he see that by rushing off, he hurt her more than Ian ever could? Saying nothing, she watched him gather his gear.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

Her eyes shimmered despite her pledge. He snapped closed the suitcase and lifted it.

“I’m very sorry this happened. I had high hopes, but Ian dashed them.”

You dashed them
.

Eyes closed, he cupped the back of her head with his free hand and kissed her. His inhale at the end implied this might be as hard on him as it was on her. If only he’d see that she loved both brothers just the way they were, things would be so great.

He left without looking back. The moment the door clicked closed, a giant sob bubbled up. “Why me?” She’d finally found someone to love and who she thought loved her, and he walked away.

* * * *

Ian paced the cell, not the least bit remorseful for punching that dick in the face. What right did he have to slam the models? If that ass had taken the time to speak with a few of the girls, he’d have realized that not all models were dumb, and they weren’t all loose.

The deputy came into the room. “Your brother’s here to bail you out.”