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“Ted? I need you to do some research. Contact that PI we used last time—yeah, that’s the one. Whatever it takes. I want a background check done on a guy here in Garrett Bluff. Matt Dawson. If he even missed the school bus in third grade, I want to know. Got it? And I want preliminary information by tomorrow.”
There were plenty of people who wanted to get their hands on the Walking Stones empire, and they’d preyed on his daughters in the guise of devoted admirers.
Just hearing about the investigation was often enough to send them packing. A visit by one of the lawyers—finding there would be no chance of receiving even a nickel—usually doused the flames of romance.
But for the determined few, there were always skeletons unearthed during an investigation—unpaid taxes, questionable tax shelters, shady business dealings, illegal alien employees, or any number of secrets.
A subtle hint and a boyfriend with avarice on his mind invariably dropped from sight.
Swiveling in his chair, Robert leaned back and surveyed the snowy peaks of the Rockies, a sense of satisfaction and control seeping into his bones.
“YOU’RE AS NERVOUSas a filly in the starting gate,” Irene murmured with an amused waggle of an eyebrow, leaning a shoulder against the door frame of the first exam room. She studied Jolie head to toe. “Hot date tonight?”
“Too much caffeine, I guess.”
Jolie thumbed through the remaining three patient files on the counter. Three more patients this afternoon, two of them new. She wasdefinitelynot dwelling on her so-called date with Matt tonight. It would just be a quiet dinner with a companionable neighbor. What was there to be nervous about?
Mandy looked up from the computer keyboard at the front desk and shook her head. “The coffee in the lab isdecaf.”
With the two women waiting expectantly, Jolie gave in. “Okay, so I have a date with Matt. No big deal. We’re just friends.”
“He’s way cool. And those eyes—” Mandy sighed melodramatically “—I’d kill for those eyelashes of his. Wear something hot.”
“Not my style.” Jolie laughed. “What do you recommend, a spandex dress?”
“Something classy. You know, the kind of little black dress you always see in the late-night movie reruns.Reallyappealing, without being revealing.”
Irene nodded. “She’s right. You need something special. What do you have?”
Jolie gave an unladylike snort. “I wear slacks and blouses to work and church. Blazers and dressier slacks to medical conferences. I date maybe once every ten years.”
“I could fit two of you in the clothes I’ve got.” Irene gave her another assessing look. “Mandy?”
The light in Mandy’s eyes dimmed. “I don’t have anything either. But wait—” She took a quick glance at the clock on the wall, then bent under the desk to grab her purse and started forthe door. “Come with me to Remembered Treasures. It’s only a block away. Please?”
“The consignment shop?” Jolie stared after her.
Mandy stopped halfway out the front door. “They’ve got the perfect outfit, and I’ll bet it would fit.”
“Well—”
“Go on,” Irene ordered, shooing Jolie toward the door. “You’ve got a while until the first afternoon appointment and you could be a few minutes late. I’ve never known Marge Watkins to be on time a day in her life.”
The whirlwind trip to Remembered Treasures, under the youthful guidance of a teenager almost half her age, was an eye-opener.
The dress Jolie bought was as well.
“Let’s see it,” Irene ordered, waving them down the hall to Jolie’s office. “Mrs. Watkins will need a few minutes to fill out her registration form anyway.”
Jolie slid the dress out of the protective plastic bag and held the hanger on one finger. “I think this is a bit too much for Garrett Bluff. What do you think?”
“But you won’t be eating here,” Mandy pointed out. “I hardly think you’ll be going to Grizzly’s.”
The V of the neckline, both front and back, looked deeper than before, now that the dress was on a hanger. Jet black, with thousands of tiny jet beads sparkling in the sunlight streaming through the window, it looked appropriate for New York or Los Angeles.
And it looked awfully, awfully short.
“Are yousurethis is okay?”
