"Yes, fine." I cleared my throat and gave him a weak smile.
"Your horse is weird," Juliet said. "Want to try again?"
"No, that's okay. I think I get the idea." I tried to sound matter of fact. I looked at Paul and flushed. Please don't say anything. His eyes softened and he gave me a tiny wink. Just between you and me, his expression seemed to say.
She relented. "As long as you think you learned something."
"Oh, absolutely. Thanks for the lesson."
"Sure." My sister gave no indication that she was aware of my distress. She had other things on her mind, apparent from the sly glance she shot at Paul and the eyebrow wiggling aimed at me. Paul didn't notice. In that moment he was looking at me.
"It's cold out here," Aunt Vi said, rubbing her arms. "Let's go indoors."
"Good idea," Uncle Henry said.
As our small group made its way to the house Paul hung back and placed a hand on my arm.
"Are you sure you're all right?" His voice was low.
"Yes. That was so strange." I shivered, slowed my pace and stopped.
"But not an unusual response to reliving a trauma."
"You seem well acquainted with trauma symptoms."
"I spent two years in the army. It's part of 'on the job' training."
My desire to linger near him conflicted with my determination to quit being so helpless. Once again he'd rescued me. Never mind that this time it was from myself. Evidently this "rescue-syndrome" Juliet had described so well was still at work, and I welcomed it with embarrassing enthusiasm. Standing close to Paul turned me into a hormonal train wreck. The muscles in my legs had the consistency of water and a hot flush spread rapidly up my neck to my cheeks. I mentally grabbed my self-control with both hands, and physically started toward the house. He matched my pace and stayed close enough to continue talking quietly, but not close enough to "accidentally" touch.
"When did you join our party in the barn?" I asked, pleased with my cool tone.
"A little before Juliet seduced Eric into cooperating." He chuckled. "She's good."
"The best." I watched her take Eric's hand. She pulled him close and whispered something in his ear. He gave her a one-armed hug and kissed the side of her head in response.
When we reach the kitchen I grabbed my purse off the counter.
"Goodnight, everyone," I said, and gave my aunt and uncle a quick kiss.
"Won't you stay another night?" Aunt Vi asked.
"No, I can't." I was tired and wanted to sleep in my own bed. The drama was over. "Thanks for dinner, it was great." I did a lightning scan of the kitchen for Paul while trying to appear casual. He was across the room, leaning against the counter. He met my gaze. "'Night," I said.
He gave me a small nod. "'Night."
I headed for my car only to be waylaid by my sister.
"Wait for us," she said, jogging up behind me. "We'll follow you home and make sure everything's okay."
"You don't need to," I protested.
"We don't mind."
"It's not necessary."
"I told Aunt Vi we would." She grinned at me, knowing she'd won.
So much for being a strong independent woman. I'd make sure to get the memo out first thing in the morning. I guess I was the only one who knew.
Chapter Eleven
The light that filled the room when my alarm rattled me awake could have only been produced by a cloudless day. It's amazing what sunshine can do for one's attitude. I jumped out of bed and threw back the curtains. Yup, I was right. It was a brilliant, turquoise and emerald day, the kind that makes half the population of the Northwest go out in shorts and t-shirts, even though it's still chilly enough in the shade to see your breath.
The narcissus had been blooming in my backyard for a couple of weeks, and the tulips looked promising. My little grape hyacinths still formed lonely little islands of blue, but I envisioned the tulips blooming and creating a spectacular effect. The only thing I could wish for would be a view of the mountains from my house. The Cascade Range had to be breathtaking on such a crystal day.
Since today was not my turn to muck out stalls at the farm, I ate a leisurely breakfast, showered, dressed as befitted a native, and got right to work. By ten o'clock I'd accomplished a gargantuan amount. The one bump in the road was a client who'd lost money on an investment – or at least showed no return on it even though the time frame was longer than I'd have expected. To make sure there was no mistake, I dialed his number.
"This is an answering machine. You know what to do." An obnoxious beep! I was certain he'd manufactured himself followed the smart-ass instructions.
"It's Thea, Jim. I'm showing a fifteen-thousand-dollar loss from an investment last year. Call me back and let me know if it's accurate so I can submit your tax forms."
Taking a short break, I called Jacob Green, the attorney Jonathan recommended. His secretary told me he was with a client and would call me back around noon. Today seemed my morning for not connecting with people. I suspected I was encountering the usual excuses that crop up on a sunny day. Well, some of us had deadlines. I addressed myself to my work again, certain I would be able to get in a ride later if all went well.
True to his secretary's word, Mr. Green returned my call at twelve. I had just settled back at my desk after finishing my turkey sandwich.
His rich bass voice painted a vivid picture of a bear of a man with an efficient manner. He got right to the point.
"I understand you're a person of interest in the Valerie Parsons murder investigation."
"That's what they told me. I don't know what to do." I grabbed a pad and pen to take notes and explained my involvement in the events surrounding Valerie's death, including my conversation with Detective Thurman.
The lawyer listened patiently, then peppered me with questions, including asking directly if I'd killed her.
"No!" I was shocked he had to ask. "Of course I didn't kill her."
His tone was soothing as he responded. "I know some of these questions aren't easy, but they do need to be addressed. The police will be sure to ask them, and we need to be prepared. The more information I have, the more I can help you when, and if, it becomes necessary."
I reined in my indignation in the face of his logic and continued to answer his remaining questions.
"I think that does it for now. Next time the sheriff wants an interview call my office and I'll arrange to be there with you. It's important that you not consent to any interviews without me present."
"Okay."
"I'll be talking to you before long, no doubt."
This was almost too simple. I gave myself a mental pat on the back, had a couple of chocolate chip cookies, and went back to work trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that accompanied Mr. Green's parting comment.
It was close to four o'clock when I applied the final touch to my last of my client files. I shut down my computer, changed into breeches and sneakers, and tossed my boots in the car. Time to go get Blackie's saddle, bridle, and other equipment from my locker at Copper Creek.
I stopped by the stable's office, out of habit, to say hello. My sister wasn't there but Delores was. She sat at her desk sorting the mail, glanced up, and greeted me as I walked in. I made myself comfortable in Juliet's vacant chair and rolled over to Delores's desk.
"I hear you've been pretty busy," she said, her gaze on my bruises.
"It was quite a day yesterday."
I gave her the short version of the events since Monday morning. She apparently had good connections because she was already aware of most of the drama.
"I'm not sure you need to worry about Valerie's father. He can be intimidating, but he's not a rash man."
Her take on Frederick Parsons differed from everyone else's. What did she know? As I finessed the question in my mind, she tossed a stack of mail into a basket on her desk and another stack into the waste can. Then she leaned back in her chair with her hands clasped behind her head and watched me for a moment.