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“Let me get my coat. I’ll go with you.”
Miranda opened her mouth to point out how that was a terrible idea but she realized her effort was futile. Maybe Jeremiah needed some fresh air, too.
Miranda shook her head, exasperated, and headed for the Range Rover, where Jeremiah soon joined her.
“Are you trying for a record of bad decisions?” she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Because this ranks up there with pretty stupid. You’re about to get your ass handed to you for being with me, and yet, here you are...with me again.”
“This is different.”
“Not to whoever ratted us out.”
“We both still have jobs to do and a poaching case that’s still unsolved. I directed you to do some follow-up and Stuart directed me to remain involved in the hopes of garnering some positive press if we manage to solve the case. The way I see it, I’m just doing my job. As long as we don’t end the day with a kiss and a grope I think we’re okay.”
She choked back surprised laughter and caught his subtle smile. “You’re something else, Burke. All right. Well, today we’re going to pay a visit to Rhett Fowler with Big Game Trophy so you can get an idea of some of the bigger names in the area.”
“Good. Anything to take my mind off tomorrow works for me.”
She smiled. They were birds of a feather.
They pulled up to the expansive, lodgelike home of Rhett Fowler and parked right up front. The home looked like an expensive ski lodge out of Vail, Colorado, with its rock face, thick timbers and extreme size, which fit Rhett well. Rhett was a man with a big barrel chest and a thick, booming voice and an even bigger laugh. A house any smaller just would’ve felt like a studio apartment.
Rhett met them at the door and immediately gathered Miranda into a bear hug that lifted her from her feet. “Girl, you’re not eating enough! I can nearly see right through you. You feeding that boy quality protein? I’ve got some caribou steaks I can send home with you if you need,” Rhett said, then turned his attention to Jeremiah. “And you must be that young cat that everyone’s talking about who took Virgil’s place. Nice to meet you,” he said, pumping Jeremiah’s hand with his signature enthusiasm and a wide smile.
Miranda grinned. Maybe she’d forgotten to mention that she’d known Rhett Fowler her entire life and he was crazy about her in a fatherly sort of way.
Jeremiah caught her barely smothered grin and she knew the jig was up, but he smiled at Rhett and allowed him to nearly shake him out of his shoes. “The very same. And you’re Rhett Fowler, owner of Big Game Trophy.”
“It better be me or else I’ve been paying someone else’s taxes all these years!” Rhett’s boom of a laugh bounced off the masculine room filled with the decapitated heads of a variety of animals as he led them into the living room, where rawhide furniture and heated floors awaited.
Rhett gestured to a woman who buzzed by, his third wife, Ambra, and instructed her to get some drinks. “Beer?” he asked Jeremiah. He didn’t need to ask Miranda. He already knew she liked dark German imports if she could get them and Rhett always kept a few in his fridge. Jeremiah hesitated the barest moment but then relented and Rhett approved. “That a boy. I don’t trust a man who doesn’t enjoy a beer now and then. Makes me wonder, what’s his problem? Isn’t he a red-blooded American?”
Ambra returned with beers for everyone and then floated from the room, off to do her own thing. Ambra was a snow bunny Rhett had brought back from his last trip to Switzerland two years ago. She was like a Nordic princess with her long, flowing white hair, pale blue eyes and lean, willowy figure. She was also in her late twenties. “The perks of being filthy rich, eh?” he joked with a knowing wink at Jeremiah.
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Shame on you for being a lecherous old man. You’d better be careful—someday you’re going to find out that the women only love you for your money.”
“Honey, money isn’t everything. I keep them happy in other places, too.”
“Gahh!” Miranda plugged her ears for emphasis. “I don’t want to hear about what a stallion you are in the bedroom. I’ve known you since I was a kid.”
He sobered and asked, “How’s your pops?”
Miranda shot him a warning look. She didn’t want to talk about her father in front of Jeremiah.
Rhett took the hint and cleared his throat. “As much as I enjoy a visit from my favorite fish-and-game girl, time is money, love. What can I do for you?”
“The poachers are back,” Miranda said. “We’re basically examining all the old evidence. Jeremiah wanted to meet a lot of the local game outfits personally. I figured you’d be a good place to start.”
