Haystacks and Hoaxes (Cowboy Brand of Justice #3)

Chapter 6 Matter of Trust

Five days before Christmas

T hough Mila rolled out of bed the next morning at daybreak, Decker was perched on a stool at the breakfast bar when she entered the kitchen.

“Wow! Do you ever sleep?” She trudged past him to stand in front of his enormous silver coffeemaker. The knobs and buttons on it looked more complicated than her life was at the moment. She blinked at them, wondering if the odds were in her favor of coaxing a cup of coffee out of such a complex contraption.

“Every night.” Deck glanced up from whatever he was reading on his electronic tablet. “What about you? Did you sleep well?”

“No. And before you ask, it’s not your incredible home, guest room, or luxurious bed that does everything but make itself.” The mattress had a remote control for reclining and massages. However, she’d been so pumped after her first day on the job as an honest-to-goodness forensic artist that she hadn’t fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning. Even then, she hadn’t stayed asleep for long. It was going to take an extra jolt of caffeine to get her moving at her normal speed this morning.

“Good to know.” He had on the standard all-black uniform that most of the Lonestar Security staff wore,complete with a utility vest, cargo pants, and combat boots. Every detail emphasized the tough-as-nails image their company liked to portray. Their bodyguards and security guards served companies both in Heart Lake and the twenty-something adjoining towns and communities.

Decker laid down his tablet to study her with concern. “I know you’ve been through a lot in the past couple of days. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

She squinted some more at the controls on his coffeemaker. “Thanks, but you’ve done more than enough.”

“Not true. I haven’t yet shown you how to use this thing.” He swooped in on her so quickly that she jumped. She hadn’t heard him climb off his stool.

“Yes, please.” She clasped her hands meekly beneath her chin.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He reached around her to turn a few knobs. In seconds, he had the soul-satisfying scent of hazelnut coffee drizzling into a cardboard to-go cup.

“You’re the best.” Her mouth watered in anticipation of taking her first sip of the heavenly brew.

“Figured I could use the big brother points.”

She sighed instead of answering, wishing she’d spent more time trying to get to know him before now. He was turning out to be a really good guy, not at all the self-centered jerk her mother had made him out to be.

“Care to interpret the sound effects?” He elbowed her companionably. “Haven’t been your brother long enough to come up with my own translation.”

“I wasn’t expecting you and Chanel to be so nice to me,” she muttered, reaching for her coffee. “And now I feel guilty about all the time and energy I’ve wasted, well, not liking you.”

“Ouch!” He made a comical recoil. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

“Sorry.” She leaned back against the cabinet, closing her eyes as she took her first sip of coffee. “I’m too tired to mince words.” Both mentally and physically.

When he didn’t immediately answer, she cracked one eyelid open and saw that he’d turned around to lean against the cabinet beside her.

“So, uh…” He stopped and cleared his throat before continuing. “Chanel said something to me last night about the shower invitations you never received. We don’t know what went wrong. All we can do is apologize.”

“Mom finally admitted they arrived late,” Mila sighed, opening her eyes to take another sip of coffee. “Both of them. Like a week after the showers. I wish she would’ve told me instead of acting like I hadn’t been invited at all.”

“It’s odd that both of them arrived late.” He frowned. “I hope you didn’t think we were playing games.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” she confessed, “among other theories.” Her newest one wasn’t any better — the possibility that her mother’s version of the story had been embellished or outright fiction.

“I would’ve been questioning my place in the family, too, if I’d been left out of a few key events.” His forehead wrinkled with concern.

“Or if someone went out of their way to make it look like that.” She glanced away from him. “I’m aware of my mom’s issues. I wasn’t when I was fifteen, but I am now.”

His eyebrows flew upward. “In case you’ve forgotten, she’s my mother now, too. We’re in this together, Mila.”

She shook her head sadly. “If you’re trying to make me feel better about the last several years of my life, it’s not working.”

“I get it,” he assured quietly. “Carla Kingston is a little insecure, but she’s a nice lady overall.”

Mila grunted into her coffee. “Says the guy who wasn’t raised by her.” He meant well, but he had no idea what he was talking about.

“Hey, my life wasn’t perfect, either.” He folded his arms and crossed one boot over the other. “After my mom died, my dad was so consumed with grief that I felt abandoned by both of them. He took a job as a traveling farm equipment salesman, and I left home the day I graduated from high school.”

Her heart shuddered at the thought of him shouldering that kind of pain alone —as a teenager, no less. “I’m sorry, Deck. I just assumed you left home for the same reason every other teen wants to get out of dodge. At that age, you think the grass is greener everywhere but where you’re standing.”

“In some ways, it is.” His lips twitched. “Especially in the rodeo ring, with the taste of dust in your mouth and the roar of the crowd at your back. It made me feel alive again. Met my best friend, followed him to Heart Lake, started a business together, and here we are.” He spread his hands. “It’s not just about the journey. It’s also about where you land.”

“Yeah.” Emotion clogged her throat. “I’m still sorry you had to make that kind of journey. It wasn’t fair losing your mom at such a young age.” He’d been in junior high at the time, old enough to remember her vividly. Old enough to feel the tremendous hole she’d left behind.

“I’m sorry you lost your dad, too.” He leaned her way. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to say it.”

It felt good to hear it, anyway. “While we’re baring our souls, I’m also sorry I came kicking and screaming into town. I was an angry, resentful teenager who never gave you a chance to be my family.” Until now.

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” he teased. “Neither did Chanel.”

At the mention of her sister-in-law, Mila groaned and covered her eyes with a hand. “I really like her, Deck.”

He chuckled. “So do I.”

“I mean it,” she insisted. “I shouldn’t have listened to…you know.” To a mother who was so insecure that she’d found it easier to paint his wife into a rich, unfeeling snob than welcome her into their lives. What a mess!

“You’re not the only one who was wrong about Chanel.” He lowered his voice. “When we first met, I assumed she was a snob, just because she was a Remington. Didn’t give her a chance. We bickered every time we got near each other.”

“What changed?” Mila was suddenly dying to know how such a checkered beginning had turned into a love story.

“We got elected to serve on the town council together, and the mayor got sick and tired of hearing us crab at each other. She sent us out of town on a leadership retreat, and we came back engaged.”

“Whoa!” Mila set her cup down so quickly that she sloshed some coffee on the granite countertop. “So that’s how you two got together?” She gaped in astonishment at him.

“Yep.” Reaching beneath the overhead cabinets, he tore a paper towel from the dispenser and held it out to her. “Looking back on how our relationship started, the tension was always there between us. We just didn’t see it for what it was at first.”

Tension? As Mila used the paper towel to dab up the spilled coffee, she couldn’t help thinking about Rock. She’d known the guy for all of two days, but already there was an insane amount of tension between them, too, along with a heightened sense of awareness every time they were together. It was intense!

“Speaking of tension…” She steered the subject back to safer territory. “How long before I outstay my welcome here?” From what she understood, her apartment was still a crime scene.

“I’d rather not put a time limit on your visit.” There was no hesitation in his response. “Right now, it feels safer having you here than anywhere else.”

That makes two of us. “So, it’s another Take Your Sister To Work Day, huh?” She picked up her cup of coffee and took another few sips. It was starting to cool off, making it easier to drink.

“Yep.” He straightened and chugged down the rest of his coffee. “Both Chanel and I want you to stay with us until we get to the bottom of who’s gunning for you. We wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if…” He stopped and shook his head. “Good grief, Mila. You drove here with a bomb sitting beside you. If I thought too hard about it, I’d never sleep again.”

Her insides grew toasty warm beneath his brotherly concern. It was wonderful having a family who cared. She smiled into her coffee cup. “If you keep saying nice things like that and brewing me coffee, I might never leave.” It wasn’t true, of course. She missed her own bed and all the plants she nursed and babied year-round. Plants! Her eyes rounded in alarm. “My plants,” she gasped, stepping away from the cabinet. “I was just kidding about never leaving. I need to get home. Today!” A sense of urgency surged through her. “Before every last one of my plants wilts and withers away!” She glanced at her watch, wondering if they could squeeze in a stop on their way to Lonestar Security.

“Relax,” Decker drawled, grinning widely. “Gage and Johnny are country boys. They watered your crops while they were at your place yesterday. Sorry I forgot to mention it before now.”

She made a bleating sound of distress. “As wonderful as that is, my plants are going to need to be watered again today. And tomorrow. And the day after that.”

“Which is why I’m having them delivered here this morning.” He leaned her way to tweak one of her plump braids. “With your permission, of course. We can rig something in the garage or basement with heat lamps and what not. Just until we figure things out.”

“Deck!” She hated putting him and Chanel to so much trouble. “That’s so sweet of you to offer, but I really could just go home.”

“I can’t stop you if that’s what you insist on doing.” His expression grew anxious. “But I don’t recommend it, and not just because you’re family. If you were a regular ol’ client, I’d be telling you the same thing and trying to figure out how to get you to a safe place.”

Family. There was nothing else he could’ve said to her that would’ve swayed her decision more. “Okay. I’ll do it,” she agreed. “Yes to moving my plants here. Yes to sheltering in place. Thank you.” She hugged him with her eyes. “I’ll find a way to repay you guys.”

“That’s not what—” He broke off his protest in mid-sentence when Chanel shuffled sleepily into the room.

She walked right up to her husband to wrap her arms around him. “Morning, Mila. I love you, Deck.”

“I love you, too.” He cuddled her closer. “Thanks for getting up to see us off. You going back to bed, I hope?”

“I shouldn’t.” She muffled a yawn against his shoulder. “But I stay so ridiculously tired these days.”

“Yeah, owning and operating your own business can do that to a person.” He brushed his lips against her forehead. “Along with serving on the town council, being the mother of a two-year-old, and having another bun in the oven.”

Mila, who was hightailing it out of the room to give them some privacy, couldn’t resist tossing over her shoulder, “And putting up with my brother.”

“There’s that,” Chanel giggled.

The way she grew abruptly silent told Mila they were kissing.

Mila finished getting ready and returned to the kitchen, where her brother was waiting impatiently for her. He hustled her to the garage and drove in companionable silence to work, while she sipped down the rest of her coffee.

Instead of pulling into the parking garage, he grabbed a spot in front of the building.

“Oo! Curbside service,” Mila cooed.

“Hold your horses,” he warned as she reached for the door handle. “Hawk Chesney is on his way to escort you inside.”

“Why? Where are you going?” She polished off the rest of her coffee with a noisy slurp .

“To the sheriff’s office.” He pulled out his electronic tablet and fiddled with his messages while he waited for Hawk to make his appearance. “Since the stuff happening to you has led to a criminal investigation, we’ll be working closely with Luke and his team until they make an arrest.”

“Got it.” She was grateful that the police were taking the attempts on her life so seriously. “Thanks for all you’re doing, Deck. I mean it.”

He smirked at her. “You’re the only sister I’ve got.”

Her heart melted at the affection in his voice.

Hawk strode their way and opened her door for her. “Morning, Mila.”

“Morning, Cocklebur.”

Though Deck raised his eyebrows at him, he didn’t comment on her use of the guy’s nickname. He merely nodded at her bodyguard. “Hawk.”

“Boss.” Cocklebur nodded back at him.

Mila snickered as Hawk did his usual hovering on their way to the front entrance doors. “Y’all managed to turn two syllables into an entire conversation.”

He grunted instead of answering.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of an elaborate, edible floral arrangement resting on the receptionist’s booth. Since the booth was currently unmanned, Mila walked right up to the gorgeous display to tap the cheery red, white, and gold balloons tied to it. “I wonder who it’s for.” Knowing she was being nosy, she swiftly read the message on the attached card and grew still. They were from Decker, congratulating her on her new job.

“For me?” she squeaked, spinning back toward the glass entrance doors. She was just in time to catch the taillights of Deck’s SUV disappearing around the corner. “So that’s why he dropped me off at the front door!” Ordering a bunch of fruit cut into flower shapes was probably Chanel’s idea, but still.

“Nice.” Hawk reached out to tap one of the balloons the same way she had.

“Please.” She gestured at the succulent bouquet with both hands. “Have a bite.” The thick floral clusters of pineapples, apples, grapes, and melon wedges were way too much for one person to eat.

“No, thanks.” He held up a hand. “I already ate breakfast.”

“Well, I didn’t.” All she’d consumed so far was coffee. She pulled a single petal of melon from one of the flowers and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm!” Since there were umpteen security cameras trained on her and she wasn’t being paid to eat, she scooped up the lovely arrangement and carried it with her toward Rock’s office.

With each step she took, it grew harder to breathe. A tight feeling settled in her jaw. Then a sharp pain shot through her midsection. She sucked in a breath, but it sounded more like a wheeze.

Fortunately, Rock’s door was ajar, because she wasn’t sure she had the strength to open it. I’m going to be sick. She barely made it across the threshold before the edible flower arrangement slid from her grasp. It crashed to the floor.

Rock’s head spun in her direction. “Mila! What’s wrong?” He shot to his feet behind his desk, half-limping and half-jogging her way as fast as he could without his cane.

Her thoughts seemed to be moving in slow motion. She opened her mouth to tell him that something was terribly wrong, but no sound came out. She slid to her knees, clawing at her neck.

By the time he reached her side, she was shaking and arching her back with uncontrollable muscle spasms. From somewhere behind her, she heard Hawk barking into his phone. It sounded like he’d called 9-1-1.

“Don’t touch the fruit,” he warned an employee she didn’t recognize, who popped his head around the door. “It may have been poisoned.”

Poisoned? Mila slumped to her side on the floor, gripped by another round of muscle spasms. I’m going to die right here on the floor. It became increasingly harder to breathe. She grew lightheaded. Rock’s panicked features wavered in and out of view. Then her eyelids drifted closed.

Though she never fully lost consciousness, she no longer felt in control of her movements. Please, God! She’d never felt such excruciating pain. It was as if tiny monsters were inside her body, slashing her vital organs to ribbons one by one. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Tears of pain and horror streamed down her cheeks.

Then a siren blared, men’s voices shouted back and forth, and she was lifted onto a stretcher. Something was pressed to her nose and mouth, and precious oxygen rushed into her starved lungs.

A large hand engulfed hers, and a low, choking voice sent up a desperate sounding prayer on her behalf. As soon as they reached the medical center, more hands and medical instruments descended on her.

Her stomach was pumped, and IV tubes were inserted. Someone gave the order to decontaminate her, start a blood transfusion, and administer her first round of antibiotics. Eventually, the voices and activity faded.

The voices were the first thing that returned. Male voices. Very concerned male voices. Voices that she soon recognized. Decker was nearby. So was Rock.

Her ears latched on to bits and pieces of what they were saying.

Poison.

Fruit.

Pesticide.

Can’t believe someone signed my name on the delivery note!

Though the topic was morbid, her heart leaped at the realization that she was still alive! It took her most focused efforts to crack her eyelids open.

The voices immediately stopped.

“Mila!” Decker’s concerned face appeared above her. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she croaked, though the sound that came out of her was barely intelligible.

“Water,” Rock said. “She needs water.” There were a few scraping and clanging sounds as he poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the roller cart beside her.

“You’re awake at last!” A nurse rushed into the room to help elevate Mila’s bed and prop her up against the pillows. “You gave us quite a scare, Miss Kingston. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Mila didn’t need to be told it was a miracle she was alive. Someone had deliberately poisoned her.

The nurse checked her vitals. “I’ll update your doctor right away. He’ll be here shortly for another exam.” She bobbed her head at Decker and Rock before taking off again.

Decker moved out of the way so Rock could limp closer and hold the glass of water to her lips. “Glad you’re still with us, partner.” He looked a little pale around the gills himself.

The doctor appeared. “You ingested a substance called strychnine,” he explained gravely. He used a finger to push his eyeglasses higher on his nose. “I printed out some information about it, the treatments you’ve undergone so far, and best practices for reaching what we hope will be a full recovery.”

Treatments. Her insides constricted at the realization she didn’t have medical insurance. She needed to get out of the medical center as soon as possible. The tab she’d run up so far was probably enough to bankrupt her.

She took a sip of water that was suddenly harder to swallow as she watched the doctor leave the room. “Get me out of here,” she rasped at her stepbrother.

He huffed out a breath. “You’re not going anywhere, sis.”

“I don’t have medical insurance.” As embarrassing as it was to admit it, the relief she felt afterward was liberating.

His honey-gold gaze narrowed on hers. “Since when?”

She lifted her chin. “Since my new benefits don’t kick in until the first of the year.”

“I was going to say something to you about that,” Rock cut in, looking guilty. “Just haven’t had the chance to grab any face time with you.”

“You mean you knew my sister didn’t have insurance?” Decker’s voice rose with incredulity.

Mila’s temper flared. She didn’t appreciate being talked about like she wasn’t in the room. “Lots of people don’t have insurance,” she snapped. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, how about pointing the finger at Loretta Bentley? She’s the one who fired me without notice for refusing to marry her lying, cheating son!”

Decker’s mouth flattened. “Just wish you’d have said something to me, Mila.”

“I’m not your problem,” she reminded. She was a grown woman who made her own decisions, however poor her mother and everyone else might think those decisions were.

“You kind of are now that you joined the Lonestar team.” He grimaced at Rock. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to make her medical benefits retroactive to her start date. If not,” his worried gaze returned to her, “this hospital stay will still be covered one way or the other by Lonestar Security. It should be covered under our worker’s comp policy.” When she started to protest, he cut her off. “You were attacked on company property while on the clock. ‘Nough said.”

The relief flooding her was tainted with the worry that he might mean he and Chanel were planning to cover her medical expenses out of pocket. However, when she tried to drill down to specifics on how her hospital bill would be covered, he changed the subject.

“They’re going to keep you overnight for observation.” He wagged a warning finger at her. “You’ll have a security detail with you at all times. So help me, Mila, we’re going to figure out who’s behind this if it’s the last thing we do.”

He sounded so distraught that she did what she always did when she was this overwhelmed. She said the first silly thing that popped into her head. “I take it you didn’t send the edible flowers?”

His jaw dropped in astonishment.

“It’s not like you were my first suspect,” she assured in a teasing voice, “since you’d just finished assuring me I haven’t outstayed my welcome at your place.”

“While you amuse yourself cracking jokes,” he growled, “ I’ll amuse myself by imagining you rolled up in bubble wrap. If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, I just might.”

“Are all brothers this mean?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Only the ones who care.” He ran a hand wearily through his hair. “I need to head home and be a dad to Gwen for a few minutes. I was hoping to be here when Luke stops by, but?—”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes at him. “Fine enough to give my statement to the police, then be back at work in the morning.”

“As if!” He shook his head at her. “You almost died today, Mila. You’re not stepping foot out of this room until a board certified doc gives you the green light to do so.” He gave Rock a harried look. “Where’s Hawk?”

“I sent him home.” Rock’s jaw tightened defensively. “She’s my partner. I’ll take tonight’s shift.”

Deck nodded, looking grateful. “Really appreciate you doing this.”

“It’ll give me a break from Johnny.” Rock took a seat on the vinyl chair beside her bed. “He practically lives with me and my brother these days.”

“Glad to hear it.” Decker’s expression lit. “The holidays are always rough on him.”

Mila and Rock exchanged a blank look, making her brother run a hand through his hair again. “I may have said too much. Sorry about that.”

Mila couldn’t believe he was going to just leave them hanging like that. “Is Johnny alright?” she demanded.

“He is now.” Decker leaned over her bed to tap her nose. “The only person you need to worry about right now is you.”

“Which sort of begs my next question.” She made a face at him. “Am I going to be alright?” The doctor had made it sound like her condition was treatable, but she could use some more reassuring.

“Yep.” He tweaked her nose again. “As deadly as the poison was, you only took one bite of the tainted fruit, and Rock and Hawk were there to call for immediate help. We’re giving the Lord all the credit for the way things turned out.” He pointed upward.

The moment he stepped from the room, she gave Rock a wide-eyed look. “What in the world did he mean about the holidays being tough for Johnny?”

His haggard expression relaxed. “My inquisitive partner really is back. You had me scared out of my mind for a few hours there.”

The genuine concern in his voice made her heart do a few crazy flips. “My life has turned into the Twilight Zone,” she grumbled. “And we still have no idea what I did to land in this mess.”

“You did nothing wrong.” His voice was firm. “All you did was make a few sketches of Chester Farm. I keep staring holes through them, trying to figure out what anyone could’ve objected to you seeing.”

“You really think my sketches are at the root of all this?” She waved a hand at her hospital bed.

“My gut says yes, though I can’t prove it yet.” He leaned her way to drum his fingers on the edge of the bed frame. “I won’t give up until we get the answers you deserve. That I can promise you.”

“Thank you.” As their gazes met and held, she experienced a floating sensation. For the space of a few heartbeats, his gaze was unguarded and full of longing.

Then he blinked, and his expression grew shuttered. “We checked the security cameras at Lonestar. The guy who delivered the edible flower arrangement was wearing a Santa costume. He also kept his head down and never looked directly at any of the cameras.”

Too bad! “He’s a dead end, then?”

“It wasn’t a complete bust.” Rock waggled his eyebrows at her. “I ran the image through one of our forensic programs, since his height and build loosely meet your description of the maintenance guy at your apartment.”

“And?” Her voice took on an anxious note.

“Yeah, that part was a bust,” he admitted, holding up a finger, “but the police were finally able to get in touch with the elusive Pat.”

She watched him intently, sensing he was about to reveal something important.

“He knew nothing about the walkway repair, and he’s not in a custody battle for any children. It’s true that he’s divorced, but he and his ex-wife have no children.”

“That figures.” She slumped against her pillows. “The guy who talked me out of calling the police was an imposter, and we’re still no closer to any answers.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He drummed his fingers on the side of her bed again. “Whatever is going on, he’s definitely part of it. The police are making it their top priority to find him and bring him in for questioning.”

She listened to his finger tapping until she couldn’t stand it any longer. From the moment she’d been poisoned, she’d been jumpier. More sensitive to lights and sounds. Downright twitchy. Without thinking, she reached for Rock’s hand and squeezed his fingers to silence them.

He squeezed back and seemed in no hurry to let her hand go.

Their gazes clashed again, and something passed between them. Something impossible to define that left her breathless. It was with the greatest reluctance that she slid her hand away from his.

Decker called his dad on the drive home, unsure if his parents had phone service on the current segment of their cruise.

Chet Kingston’s voice rang jovially over the line. “Hey, Deck! How’s it going?” It was clear no one had contacted him yet about Mila’s condition.

Though Decker gave him the shortest version of the story, his father was disturbed to hear that she’d been admitted to the medical center.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s in recovery mode.” Finally. Decker didn’t want to downplay the seriousness of what she’d been through. “It was touch and go all afternoon.” His voice grew hoarse at how easily they could’ve lost her.

“Carla is going to come unraveled when she hears this,” his father groaned. “She’d been acting paranoid lately about Mila’s safety. It’s why she was so insistent about bringing her on the cruise with us. That and…” His voice trailed off.

“Talk to me, Dad.” Decker sensed that his father had more to say on the topic.

“It’s not my secret to tell, son.” Chet Kingston’s voice grew resigned.

“If it’s something that might help me keep Mila alive,” Decker growled, “I need to know.”

“Nah, nothing like that. It’s more personal.” His father drew a heavy breath. “Something Carla should’ve told Mila a long time ago. ”

“Oka-a-ay.” Whatever it was, it sounded potentially relevant from where he was sitting.

“On her twenty-fifth birthday, she’s going to inherit a sizable share in an oil company.”

“No kidding?” A sense of foreboding crept through Decker’s chest. Anything involving money could most certainly impact Mila’s safety.

“Her father set up a trust for her when she was born and moved his share of Canyon Creek Petroleum into it. You’ve lived in Heart Lake long enough that you’ve probably heard of the firm.”

“Yep.” Have I ever! Decker couldn’t say why, but his sister’s connection to Canyon Creek Petroleum didn’t feel like a coincidence. It was somehow tied to the danger swirling around her. It had to be.

“Since Mila was less than a year old when she lost her father, her mother became the new trustee by default,” Chet Kingston explained. “Managing the investment portfolio felt way beyond her expertise. She begged her in-laws to take over the trusteeship, but they refused.”

“That’s too bad.” Decker couldn’t imagine being saddled with a responsibility like that with little or no warning. Not everyone was a financial guru.

“Oh, it’s a lot worse than that, son. Mila’s dad was a single parent when he married Carla.”

What? Decker’s heart sank. “You mean Mila’s her stepdaughter?”

“Yep. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but because of the circumstances, she asked her in-laws if they wanted to raise Mila. Again, they said no.”

So, Mila had no biological family left alive. It was going to be a bitter pill for her to swallow. From what he could tell, her relationship with her mother was already strained nearly to the breaking point. “She doesn’t know any of this, does she?”

“Unfortunately not. Carla meant to tell her when she got older, but it never seemed like the right time.”

Was there ever a right time for stuff like that? Man! Decker forced his thoughts back to the case. “What can you tell me about the trust, Dad?”

“Not much. It isn’t something her mother has ever said much about. All I know is the oil shares will pass to Mila on her twenty-fifth birthday or the day she marries, whichever is sooner. Kind of old-school, but that’s how the trust was written.”

Say it isn’t so! Decker’s thoughts flashed to Troy Bentley. Had that punk known about the oil shares Mila would soon inherit? “How long have you known about this?”

“Since the day I married her mother.”

“I thought you said they were poor.” Decker grappled with confusion. A part of him had always wondered if his stepmom had married his dad for his money.

“It’s complicated, son. I’m not sure I completely understand it myself.”

“Try me,” Decker urged.

“Over the years, the investment grew into a small fortune, but Carla has never touched a penny of it. She’s been socking away the royalties in some global mutual fund, supposedly for a rainy day.” He let out a gusty breath. “Between me, you, and the doorpost, I think she’s afraid of being left alone in the world again. It’s her safety net should that ever happen. Smart, if you ask me. Investing the royalties while they’re hers and preparing for the day that will no longer be the case.”

If you say so. Decker’s ears were hearing a criminal motive. He mentally added his stepmother to his list of suspects. “And now someone is trying to eliminate Mila from the picture,” he said slowly. “Right before her birthday.”

His father cleared his throat. “If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…?”

“I didn’t suggest anything.” His father’s reaction was telling, though, to immediately assume Decker was thinking exactly what he was thinking.

“Listen, son. I know you and I have had our differences, but Carla would never do anything to harm Mila. I’d bet my life on it!”

“Then prove it,” he urged in a low voice.

“How?” His father sounded harried.

“Let the police search your home.”

“Without a warrant?”

“They’ll get one if they have to, but it’ll look better if you submit to a voluntary search.”

“Give me one good reason why!”

“That way, they can see for themselves that there’s nothing in your home that connects my stepmother to the attempts on Mila’s life.”

“I can’t believe you just said that, son.”

“People have killed for a lot less than shares of oil stock, Dad.”

“You know what? Fine!” Chet Kingston exploded. “Do it. My wife has nothing to hide. If searching every inch of our home is the only way to prove it, then so be it.”

“You want the police to do it now or wait until you’re back in the country?”

“Just get it over with. You know where I keep the spare key.” His father’s voice grew bitter. “Call me when it’s over.” He paused a beat. “And I’ll be expecting a full apology. You’re wrong about Carla. ”

“I want to be wrong, Dad.” Right now, there was nothing Decker wanted more.

Four days before Christmas

“The police found what?” Mila’s lips parted in disbelief as she gaped at Decker. She hadn’t expected him to return to the medical center before lunch time, since he’d left so late the night before, much less to tell her that the police had just finished searching their parents’ home.

“Bomb-making materials hidden in a shoebox in our mother’s closet.” Her stepbrother looked grim. “Plus a bottle of strychnine hidden in one of her purses. The sheriff had no choice but to issue a warrant for her arrest. She’ll be taken into custody the moment she steps foot back into the country.”

Mila’s insides trembled. “There has to be more to the story.”

If anything, his expression grew more resigned. He actually believed what he was telling her!

She flew to her mother’s defense. “I know my mom has issues, but murder? No way, Deck! Absolutely no way!” It was her mom they were discussing, for pity’s sake! The woman who’d given birth to her and raised her. It was true that Carla Kingston got on her last nerve every time she opened her mouth with her unfiltered opinions, pettiness, temper tantrums, and paranoia. Through all of her messed-up-ness, however, Mila had never doubted her love. If anything, her mother’s pettiness and paranoia stemmed from her unhealthy fear of losing her only child the way she’d lost Mila’s father .

“I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know, Mila.” Regret edged Decker’s voice. “But forensics don’t lie.”

“Maybe the so-called evidence was planted.” Mila knew how unreasonable she sounded, but she was desperate. “Maybe she’s being set up.”

“Set up for what?” He spread his hands helplessly. “This is the same woman who never told you about your inheritance. The same woman who let you scrimp along without health insurance, while the fortune that was rightfully yours was only an arm’s length away.” His jaw hardened as he continued, “The same woman who begged her in-laws to take the trusteeship off her hands when your dad died. And you.”

No! No, no, no, no, no! Lightheadedness made Mila sway in bed. All the fears and doubts from her childhood crept back. All the feelings that most kids go through when they get in trouble, then jump to the ridiculous conclusion that their parents don’t want them anymore. “Why would she do a thing like that?” Why would any parent do something like that? If what Decker had said was true, it verified Mila’s most morbid suspicions — that her mother had never wanted her.

“She was young and grieving,” her brother explained gently. “And your father was a single dad when she married him. It’s not that she didn’t want you. My dad was very quick to make that clear. She just figured his family had more right to you than she did.”

Because she’d suddenly found herself saddled with an infant to raise alone! Mila shook her head in distress. So many things about her childhood suddenly made more sense, and not in a good way. However, it still didn’t make her flighty, paranoid, perennially agitated mother a criminal. “I know it looks bad for her,” she choked, “but she must’ve had her reasons.” The only alternative conclusion was unthinkable! There was no way anyone was going to convince her that the woman who’d raised her wanted her dead.

Decker took a seat on the edge of her mattress. “You do realize that if you were no longer in the picture, every penny of your inheritance would go to your stepmother?”

Don’t call her that! Mila shook her head frenziedly, feeling like she’d lost something very dear and very precious. Angry tears spilled down her cheeks. “No!” Her heart was having a very hard time getting on board with what he was suggesting.

Rock, who’d remained silent during the exchange, pushed out of the vinyl chair beside her bed and stomped toward the window. There was a restlessness in him, an agitation that she felt all the way to her soul. Despite the numbness spreading through her, she didn’t miss the fact that it was the second time she’d seen him walk without the help of his cane.

Decker reached for her hand, but she shook off his touch. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry.” Her previous excitement about coming to work for him felt like it had been stomped into the dirt. By him. He was the one who’d insisted on having their parents’ home searched without a warrant, and he was all too accepting of their mother’s pending arrest.

Out of nowhere, an idea slammed into her. Maybe she was grasping at straws, but so be it. “My mom couldn’t have done this, Deck. She wasn’t even in the country when the bomb went off or…or…” Her words dwindled to silence at his expression of abject misery.

Her words hadn’t swayed his opinion one bit in her mother’s favor. “It’s possible she was working with an accomplice, Mila. There’s an APB out for the guy posing as Pat, the maintenance guy. We need to prepare ourselves for the worst.”

She felt her insides coming unraveled. “Deck, please don’t do this,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry.” His own eyes grew damp. “As hard as this is to hear, I told the police it would be better if you heard it from me. Be as angry as you need to be. At me. At the world. It’s okay. Just know that I’m angry, too. I can’t stand the thought of anyone trying to hurt my sister.”

“Your sister?” Her voice rose shrilly. They both knew she had no family left in this world. “If my mother goes to jail, then your dad will surely…” Divorce my mom. She finished the sentence inside her head.

“He’ll still be your dad,” Decker insisted in a voice thick with emotion, “and I’ll still be your brother. Family is about more than biology, Mila.”

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. She stared at him, overwhelmed by the strangest mix of fury and gratitude.

“I love you, Mila.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was struggling to remain in control. “Chanel loves you. Gwen loves you. Our Golden Doodles love you.”

His words made more tears spill down her cheeks. “I love you, too,” she sobbed. “That’s why I’m so m-mad at you right now!”

He abruptly leaned closer to gather her in his arms.

At first, she pummeled him with her fists — weakly, of course. There was very little fight left in her. Then she collapsed against his broad chest, thankful she didn’t have to face what was coming alone.