The Right Thing (3 page)

“Let me tell you something, boy. There are some women who only satisfy you physically, and other women who love you but never fill up all the empty spots. Now and again you come across a woman who can do both. Althea Carmichael is one of those women. You don’t want to mess with her unless you’re sincerely interested,” Gerald told him. “She’ll turn you into a better man whether you want to be one or not.”

“How do you know what she’s like?” Morgan asked, wondering if his father had dipped into that particular well. It was a highly disturbing thought.

“Because it runs in the women of that family,” Gerald said, rising and walking out of the kitchen. “Now I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up too late working on the house. You need to rest and get well. I want us to go hiking soon.”

“I’m right behind you, Dad. Will you introduce me to Althea?” Morgan asked, swallowing as his father turned back and narrowed his eyes. It was like he was a kid again trying to con his dad into letting him do something that he knew his father didn’t approve of.

“Maybe. I’ll have to think about it,” Gerald replied, heading to his blessedly quiet bedroom at the back of the house.

*** *** ***

After his father had locked himself in his room for the night, Morgan picked up his phone. Pulling up pictures that he taken from the last few days, he scrolled through all of them until he came to the ones of his father kissing Althea Carmichael. He zoomed in as close as he could on her smiling face and thought he could detect a slight blush. Maybe it was his imagination. Did women actually still blush? Women that age?

Leaving the one picture up for inspiration, he tapped on his laptop and entered passwords. Then Morgan entered her name in the search field of a software that gathered data from many federal, state, and local sources.

About a minute later, the story of Althea Carmichael’s life filled the screen.

The restaurant held its own in Sedona, had for years from what Morgan could tell. To Morgan’s trained eye, the restaurant looked more solvent than successful, but maybe it was enough for her.

Or maybe she was getting a little extra from his father to supplement, Morgan reminded himself as he continued reading.

He couldn’t let his hope she was a good person keep him from seeing the truth if it popped up.

She had a twenty-eight-year-old daughter who lived in California with her husband. There were no grandchildren from that union yet.

She also had a twenty-five-year-old son in the military, fortunately not in a war zone, but after enlisting at eighteen, the man did appear to be a career solider. No wife or children for him yet either.

Her husband, Angus Carmichael, had died from a massive heart attack six years ago, but had a medical history of multiple hospital stays several years prior. The problems were so complex that Mason couldn’t discern the exact medical condition.

Althea herself seemed to have no serious health issues, which really didn’t concern him, but health issues could make a person desperate enough for cash to extort it. Because of that, Morgan always checked a suspect’s medical history even though the information made him uncomfortable.

He downloaded the contents of his search into a massive report file on Althea Carmichael that he could comb through in more depth later if anything suspicious turned up.

Picking up the phone again, he studied the woman’s smiling face in the photo.

“Please don’t be the one taking the money. I’m starting to like you, Althea Carmichael,” Morgan said irritably to the photo. “I may want to ask you out.”

*** *** ***

His father was gone by the time Morgan was awake the next morning. He sat at the table morosely drinking coffee and feeling as lonely as he had in Las Vegas during the first two months of his injury.

Morgan scratched his head and rubbed his face, trying to reconcile the fact that he’d come here expecting to find his aging father filling his days with lackluster routines and spending most of his time sitting at the kitchen table. Ironically, that was a better description of Morgan’s life.

His father, on the other hand, was busy biking around town, kissing women, and if Morgan’s guess was correct—getting laid a few times a week.

When his father swung back into the driveway around eleven, Morgan was sweeping up the mess he’d made patching the drywall in the living room.

“Get cleaned up and we’ll swing into town for lunch,” Gerald ordered. “Put on something nice for a change.”

“Gee, Dad, I left all my suits in Vegas,” Morgan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a hundred in the shade. I’m not wearing dress clothes.”

“Just try to look presentable,” Gerald told him, matching his sarcasm. “I’m taking you to meet Thea. How the hell do you live in Las Vegas, Nevada? It’s just as hot there.”

“It’s different,” Morgan argued. “I don’t know how, but it is. I’ve been melting since I arrived in Sedona.”

Gerald laughed. “We’ll take your rental then. The air conditioner is out in the Honda. I rarely drive it anyway, so I haven’t bothered to get it fixed.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Morgan said, sighing. He knew his father didn’t have the money to fix the car, but it wasn’t time yet to have the heart-to-heart that would have to happen eventually.

“Skip the car,” Gerald said, plucking his ball cap from a hall tree and smacking it on his leg to knock the dust from it. “Finish these damn projects so I can have peace in the house again.”

“Okay,” Morgan said, surprised at the irritation in his father’s tone. “Sorry I keep making a mess.”

“Get it done, boy,” Gerald said, laughing at the hurt on Morgan’s face. “I appreciate the effort, but there’s more to life than just working all the time. That’s why we’re going to lunch. Come on. My treat.”

“Dad—I. . .” What Morgan wanted to say got lost on its way from his brain to his mouth. Arguing about who would pay for lunch would have to wait. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll clean up and change.”

“If you knew how much your life was going to change today, you’d be moving a hell of a lot faster,” Gerald told him. “I’m about to introduce to the kind of woman you haven’t even had the good sense to dream about.”

Morgan smiled at his father’s joking as he headed to change.

Gerald shook his head at Morgan’s bowed head and curving back as he walked away. Maybe meeting Thea would snap the boy out of his funk and that would be a good thing. What gave him pause though was what meeting Morgan might do to Thea. He knew his son didn’t form lasting relationships with anyone. Always a loner, even when he was a kid, Morgan didn’t seem to want to be cared for in life.

Gerald headed to the kitchen for some water and prayed that he was doing the right thing introducing them.

*** *** ***

It was the bottom of the lunch rush at a quarter to one when Thea saw Gerald and another man walk into the restaurant. She saw Amy’s eyes light up and was pretty sure it wasn’t for Gerald this time.

“I got them,” Thea said as casually as she could.

Amy looked at her boss, who had her eyes glued to Gerald’s companion. He was not a classically good-looking man in her opinion, but he was definitely oozing testosterone as he walked. Since he looked close to Thea’s age, Amy reined her interest back in and just smiled. It would be nice if Thea did take an interest in a man for once.

“You taking the table?” Amy teased.

Thea swatted the girl on her arm with the two menus she swiped off the bar.

“Yes,” she answered, hearing the girl’s soft laugh as she walked calmly to the door.

“Hey, handsome. Who’s your friend today?” Thea asked, leaning in to Gerald to kiss his cheek.

Morgan got a whiff of citrus scent off her hair as she moved back and brushed him. Her face was even more pleasant in person. And if she was older than he was, he sure as hell couldn’t tell it. The woman had intensely green eyes. Her body was fit and trim in her sexy T-shirt and jeans. Her brownish red hair peppered with silver strands was full and long, though currently pulled back in a clip while she worked. Mason found himself wondering if she knew how she looked or if it was just her usual style.

“Thea, this is my son Morgan. Morgan, this is Althea Carmichael,” Gerald said with a flourish. “The food here is wonderful. The company is even better.”

From his six-foot height, Morgan judged the woman to be somewhere around five foot eight in her sandals. His gaze dropped from her face to her feet, travelling slowly up her legs until they landed on an arched eyebrow that let him know she hadn’t missed his act of assessing. The snort from her that followed his perusal had him straightening. He hadn’t meant to offend her. He just hadn’t been prepared for her to be so appealing.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Thea told Morgan, meeting and holding his gaze until he looked away.

Then she looked back to Gerald. “Bar or booth, big guy.”

“Booth,” Gerald said, elbowing Morgan when Thea turned around and his son’s gaze instantly glued itself to her very attractive ass.

Morgan jolted from his staring at the feel of his father’s elbow poking him.

“Sorry,” Morgan said. “I think I need food. My mind is wandering all over the place.”

Gerald laughed at that one. Any fool could see the exact place Morgan’s mind had wandered.

“You want the usual?” Thea asked, getting a nod from Gerald. “I’ll give Morgan a moment to check out the menu.”

“I’m easy,” Morgan said, speaking to Thea directly for the first time. “Any ham sandwich you have that comes with lots of fries. Add a big glass of iced tea and I’m good.”

“Okay,” Thea said, keeping the menus. “Give me a few minutes and it’ll be right out.”

As she walked away, Morgan couldn’t help watching the swing of her denim covered hips again.

“Dad, please tell me you’re just friends with that woman so I can stop feeling guilty for what I’m thinking.”

Gerald snorted, but didn’t mind his son’s honesty for once. Thea hadn’t caught Morgan eyeing her yet, but it might be good if she did.

“What if I wasn’t just friends?” Gerald asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Morgan said, spreading his hands. “She’s—interesting.”

“Yes, she is. Thea and I are only good friends,” Gerald said shortly. “Just know if you screw with her in a bad way, I’m going to kick your ass back to Las Vegas faster than you can blink.”

Morgan laughed at his father’s serious-sounding threat. “Geez, you seem like you mean that. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” Gerald said. “I love you, but you don’t come around often enough for me to know anything about you as a man. I know who I am though, and if you think I’m kidding, you obviously don’t know me either.”

“Well, I’m not sure how I stack up next to you, but there’s no woman in my life currently. I never get serious, but I don’t lead women on either,” Morgan said, defending himself and hoping his father took the hint. “I don’t know why you have such a low opinion of me. I’m mostly a good guy, Dad.”

Gerald lowered his voice to a whisper only Morgan could hear.

“Son, I saw the way you looked at her, which tells me you’re fairly clueless. That woman has a hell of lot more going for her than just a perfect ass in jeans. She has the capacity to erase every other woman you’ve ever known from your mind. She could easily become the only thing you think about all day long every day,” he said, smiling and winking at Amy, who stopped by just briefly to drop off their iced teas. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Morgan watched the young woman’s slim hips swing through the tables with only a small fraction of the interest Althea Carmichael’s had held for him. He wasn’t even going to have to fake his interest in the older woman to get closer. It was organically there.

“You’re a flirt, Dad. That girl can’t be more than twenty,” Morgan said when the waitress had retreated.

“Amy is twenty-two and studying to be a teacher. I think she’s going to make a fine one. She likes musical men and has a thing for the lead guitarist in the band that plays at the theatre next door on Friday nights,” Gerald informed him. “When I flirt with her, I’m merely reminding her—and Thea for that matter—that men are supposed to pay attention and make them feel sexy.”

“Yeah, well, when did you become Don Juan? Last time I spent some serious time with you, you weren’t even dating,” Morgan said, picking up his cold tea and sipping the amazingly tasty brew. “Damn, that’s good. My body temperature is dropping below a hundred for the first time since I got here. This is not regular iced tea. What is it?”

“No idea,” Gerald said. “Thea says it’s her special recipe. The woman has a lot of secrets and guards them closely. Tread carefully through that garden, Morgan. You might step in something you weren’t planning on.”

“Garden metaphors? Really? Metaphors, Dad?” Morgan sipped his tea and laughed.

And he was still laughing and smiling at his father when Althea slid a full plate onto the table in from of him. The sandwich was stacked three inches high with ham and layers of lettuce, tomato, and cheese. The fries were fragrant and perfect.

Morgan met and held her gaze until she turned away. It made him feel like he’d lost something to lose the contact.