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“Ha!”
“All right. You win. I’ll look into the whole thing after I drop you off to do your research.”
For once he was thinking efficiently. “Excellent idea.”
They headed for the State Fair Park, where the Dallas Historical Society was located in an impressive, T-shaped pavilion called the Hall of State. She slipped out of his car in the parking lot after agreeing to meet at three o’clock.
Although she had intended to head immediately for the offices of the Historical Society, she discovered there was too much she wanted to see first, and she took her time studying the giant murals that ran around the four-story interior of the Great Hall of Texas, depicting the state’s history from 1528 into the twentieth century. When she finally arrived at the Historical Society offices, she was greeted warmly, and she spent the next few hours cross-checking the notes she’d taken from Lady Sarah’s journal with other sources from the time period. She was so absorbed in her research that she lost track of time and didn’t arrive at the spot where she was supposed to meet Kenny until three-fifteen.
The Cadillac was waiting, along with its irate driver. “You’re late. I hate that!”
“Really, Kenny, you have no right to complain. How was I supposed to know you’d be prompt today after you were so late yesterday?”
“Yesterday was different.”
“Because you were the one who was late instead of me.”
“Something like that.”
“You’re impossible. Did you find the tattoo parlor?”
“Even better. I found a lady who does tattoos in her home.”
“Really? And you think she’s reliable?”
“Pillar of the community. You’re not going to get anyone more reliable. Only thing is, she’s got a busy schedule, and she can’t take you till ten o’clock tonight. I had to practically beg for that.”
She hoped Hugh’s detectives would be around. “That’ll be fine.” Her stomach rumbled. “I could use a bit of lunch.”
“I know just the place.”
Twenty minutes later they drove through the stone gates of a country club that screamed exclusivity. The tree-shrouded lane ended in a pillared Greek Revival–style building. After Kenny parked, she got out and headed for the front entrance. Once again, it took her a while before she realized he wasn’t following. She turned.
He stood watching her, his hands splayed on his hips. “Do you know where you’re going?”
She glanced around. “Not really.”
“Then why are you leading?”
“I don’t know. I always do.”
“Well, stop. I don’t like it.”
Neither had Jeremy Fox. But she wasn’t the kind of woman to be a follower. She’d been on her own most of her life, and she’d learned very early that she could either lead the way or get trampled.
He jerked his thumb toward a smaller building. “We’re going over there.”
“Sorry.” She felt foolish as she followed him along a walk that led to a door topped with ornately carved gold wooden letters indicating it was the pro shop. The men inside greeted him as if he were visiting royalty.
“Hey, Kinny! How’s it goin’?”
“Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Did you hear Charlie made an eagle on seven yesterday? Got so excited his heart kicked up, and he couldn’t finish the round.”
Kenny returned their greetings, said he hadn’t heard about Charlie, then led Emma toward a glass-walled grill room that connected to one end. “Hope you don’t mind eating alone.” He gestured toward the hostess. “Take care of her, will you, Maryann? I’m gonna hit some balls.”
“Sure ’nough, Kenny. Did you know everybody on the staff signed a petition to the Antichrist to get you back on tour?”
