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“Is that a trick question?”
“No. I had no idea there was a problem.”
Jet suddenly felt less sure of herself. “Come on.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of an issue.”
She felt another prick of guilt and unease. “Forget it,” she said quickly. “Obviously I don’t know what I’m talking about.” She smiled tightly, relieved to see the waiter arrive with their wine. “What are you going to order?”
“Haven’t even looked at the menu.” He smiled faintly, his dark eyes boring into hers. “But I think you know that, too.”
Too.
Jet reached for her wine and took a gulp, suddenly, dreadfully out of her element. She reached for the menu, opening it, trying to hide. Why had she even brought up the Sheenans? Not smart. If she was going to probe, she should have at least waited for dessert to save herself from an uncomfortable dinner.
“I liked Dillon,” he said from the other side of the menu. “He seemed nice enough. I’ve never spoken to Brock. He’s not in town much.”
She lowered the menu an inch.
“I met Troy once, and he was okay,” Shane added. “Haven’t met Trey. And Cormac’s an ass.”
Her brow creased. “Cormac can be tough, but he’s a great dad—” She broke off, gulped air, feeling the blood drain away. “And he’s here,” she whispered.
Not just here, but heading her way now.
Shane reached for his wine. “Is that a problem?”
Yes. “No.” Panic bubbled up, making her heart pound and her head swim. She had to beat the panic down, telling herself she hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t know anything. No one had told her anything specific. There was no reason she couldn’t have dinner with her favorite author. And yet, as Cormac approached, she felt her legs turn to Jell-O.
It was all she could do to stand up and start towards him, determined to intercept Cormac before he reached their table. “Hey.” She greeted him with a sunny smile. “Small world.”
He hesitated a moment before kissing her cheek. “It is in this part of the country,” he said, glancing past her, gaze locked on Shane. “Is that Swan you’re with?”
“Swan?” She repeated, brow creasing.
He sighed. “Shane Swan.”
“Oh, yes. We’re having dinner. He’s Sean Finley. Did you know that?”
“Yeah.” But Cormac wouldn’t return her smile. “And I’m not a fan, either. He’s trouble, Jet. You shouldn’t be out with him.”
“Why?”
“I can’t go into it now, but trust me. He’s bad news.”
“I’m not sure what he’s done to earn his bad reputation, but he’s been nothing but nice to me—”
“Did he ask you out?”
“Yes.”
“Has he asked you about my family?”
Her mouth opened, closed. “Not sure what that means.”
Cormac folded his arms across his chest. “He’s using you. He’s trying to get close to the Sheenans—”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit presumptuous?” she interrupted. “Can an attractive man not be interested in me, for me?”
“Yes, but that’s not what’s going on with Swan. He has an agenda—”
“And you don’t, Cormac?”
“No. I don’t.” He frowned down at her. “Why would you say that? We’ve never had any problem…” His voice faded and he again looked past her, expression darkening. “What did Swan tell you?”
“About what?” She was so frustrated she wanted to stamp her foot, and she wasn’t the type to stamp a foot. She couldn’t do that in her family. The Diekerhofs had a zero tolerance policy for drama and tantrums. “I have no idea what’s going on. No one has told me anything. There’s just lots of hush-hush-hush but nothing that I can make sense of, and I’m not going to be rude to someone who has been nothing but nice to me without a really good reason.”
Cormac took her arm and drew her from the center of the restaurant to a corridor on the side. “And he really hasn’t asked you about the Sheenans?”
He asked the question looking hard into her eyes and she gulped a breath, heart falling. There was no way she could lie to him. That would only alienate him completely. “We did talk about Harley, but that’s because I brought her up.”
“And he said nothing about Brock? Or any of my brothers?”
Her unease grew. “Brock came up, too, when he said he’d never met Brock. Or Trey. Just you, Troy, and Dillon.”
“Did he mention McKenna?”
“No. Why?”
“Because he’s writing a book about McKenna’s family.”
Jet gave her head a slight shake. “But why?”
Cormac seemed perplexed by her question. “You know about McKenna’s family?”
“No.”
He hesitated so long that Jet knew it was bad, whatever it was.
“There was a home invasion on the Douglas ranch when she was a little girl,” he said gruffly. “Five members of her family were killed, including her parents, and a baby sister. The crime was never solved.”
“Actually, I did hear about a mass murder on a ranch in Paradise Valley a long time ago—one of my students mentioned it—but I didn’t realize that it was McKenna’s family.” She hesitated, perplexed. “And you’re sure Shane’s writing about it?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Back before Christmas I was in the house and saw the dining room at the house—my family home, the place I grew up in—and he’d turned it into his study. The walls were lined with bulletin boards covered with newspaper headlines.”
She looked away and chewed on her lower lip. She didn’t know what to say anymore.
“He’s interviewing people, too. Asking questions. It’s not good. It’s just stirring up a lot of bad memories.” Cormac gave his head a faint shake. “Let me take you home. You don’t want to be part of this.”
She hesitated, trying to understand. “Part of what?”
“This…circus.”
She still didn’t understand. “He’s a very respected writer. He’s won a National Book Award—”
“It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be writing that book, in our home. So let me take you back to Kara’s. I don’t think it’s good for you to be associating with him.”
“Cormac, he’s a writer, not a criminal.”
“He deceived us. He said he was writing a book about Paradise Valley history…never about the Douglases.”
“Okay, he has questionable judgment, but I don’t think he’s a bad person.”
“Do you know what a book like this will do to McKenna?”
“But what if Shane can solve the crime?”
Cormac’s jaw just tightened.
She reached out to give his forearm a squeeze. “What if he finds out something that could help the case? It’s possible.”
“And he’ll make a fortune off it, too,” he added bitterly.
“Make a fortune from what?” a deep, sardonic voice asked, interrupting the conversation.
Jet spun around, flushing hotly as she spotted Shane standing right behind her. How much had he heard?
She forced a quick smile. “Hey. We were just talking about you.”
Shane smiled back, but the curve of his lips was faint and his dark gaze wary. “So I gathered.”
Jet gestured to Cormac. “You know each other?”
The corner of Shane’s mouth lifted a fraction, and yet it only seemed to make his expression harder. “We’ve spoken. Briefly.”
Cormac eyed Shane coldly. “Still waiting on that departure date, Swan.”
Shane shrugged. “Don’t have one.”
“The lease is not being renewed.”
“The lease stipulates I’m to be given a thirty day notice, Sheenan. Written. Haven’t gotten that.”
“I would think it’s uncomfortable remaining someplace you’re not wanted.”
“You might think so, yes. But I’ve spent most of m
y life in homes where I wasn’t wanted, so…” His voice trailed away. He shrugged carelessly, holding Cormac’s gaze the entire time.
