bait. I only turned down the last one because I didn’t have enough staff.”
At least Jen didn’t say she now had a dumb blonde to fit the bill as decoy, Cassie thought. Of course she wouldn’t. They’d known each other for three years, and Cassie knew Jen respected her abilities beyond working as a secretary for a rival agency. She was just being touchy. Her experience with Chet had left her that way.
Jen smiled. “I know this is a disappointing case being your first one with us. You were probably looking forward to something meatier, but I really appreciate you jumping in. Like I said, I think Marianne is being taken for a ride. I’m glad she’s finally starting to get suspicious of Robert.”
“Why? What’s he done?”
“Long periods away from home. Says he’s on a business trip, but doesn’t show any income, secretive about phone calls, and she thinks he has a private mailbox. He’s never asked her for money, though, which is a bit of a puzzle.”
“She has a lot of it I take it?”
“More than she’ll ever be able to spend. Her first husband passed away two years ago and she was left with three homes, a healthy investment portfolio and too much free time to feel sorry for herself. And then up popped Robert Bask, twenty years her junior and as smooth as chocolate silk pie.”
Cassie shook her head. The age thing alone wasn’t a big deal in her mind, but the rest added up to trouble. “I’ll see what I can do. I assume you have some information on his routines and personal habits.”
“Right here.” Jen picked up a file folder and laid it in front of Cassie. “Of course he hasn’t been totally forthcoming about his whereabouts, but she does know he favors this one bar outside of town.”
“I’ll read this over and start tomorrow.” Cassie stood. “Thanks for giving me this chance to join the team, Jen.”
“Are you kidding? It’s me who should be on my knees thanking you. But I’m sure you’ll excuse me if I don’t get up,” she said with a wry grin and a hand on her tummy.
Annie chose that moment to wake up and let out a huge wail. Jennifer briefly closed her eyes and groaned. “On second thought,” she muttered, struggling to her feet.
“I’ll get her,” Cassie offered.
“Thanks but it’s feeding time and that makes me the most popular person in this little lady’s life.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Anyway, I want you to go get started on the case.”
“You’ve got it, boss.”
“Call me tomorrow.” She picked up her daughter and the baby immediately quieted. “Let me know how you’re going to handle the documentation. A wire would probably be best, but I’ll let you decide how you want to work it. Although frankly, I think your word will be enough for Marianne to give him the boot.”
“Let me think about it, but I’ll probably use a wire. I know they haven’t been married long, but just in case they end up in court.”
“Good thinking.” Jen got ready to feed Annie, and Cassie headed for the door. “I’m so glad you’ve joined us.”
Cassie stopped with her hand on the doorknob, pride filling her chest. She’d do the best damn job possible on this case. Jen would never be sorry she took her in as a rookie. And everyone—Chet, her father, her brother—they’d all see that she was more than just a pretty face.
1
NOT ONLY did the new assignment suck, but it had landed J. Dalton Styles in this little Podunk town outside of Midland, Texas. Penance. That was what this was about. For having the balls to get the job done no matter what. And politics. His boss wanted a promotion so bad he could taste it. Just wait till Hector needed a favor. Screw him. He’d have to ask another investigator to do his dirty work.
Dalton took a sip of warm beer. He’d ordered it for show, that’s what all the cowboys in the bar seemed to be drinking. But he was on the job, which meant no alcohol. One of the few rules he did adhere to. He’d seen enough good federal investigators lose their careers over drugs or booze.
And women. Bad marriages. Not him. He’d gotten out first.
Shit, who was he kidding? Linda left him for another guy. She’d claimed Dalton worked too much. Hell, he didn’t care. Good riddance. A wife and kids would be a burden. He’d been crazy to think he could swing it. That wasn’t his scene.
Neither was this assignment.
He drummed his fingers on the bar and looked at his watch. He’d already been here an hour, sporting this ridiculous Stetson, trying to blend in with the decor. Wearing the cowboy boots was no hardship. He wore one of the three pairs he owned all the time. The guys back in Chicago razzed him. He didn’t give a rip. He’d gotten used to them early in his career during his first Texas assignment.
That had been a hell of a good case. His first major bust. Two guys holding a woman hostage at a meth lab near the Mexican border. Dalton had taken them down before the hostage negotiator even arrived.
Eight years and three commendations later, he gets stuck with this fluff assignment. How ironic that he had to expose a con artist who bilked wealthy women out of their divorce settlements. Dalton figured if the women were that stupid to fall for a smooth-talking snake like Robert Bask, they deserved to be left penniless.
Let those rich ladies work for a living. Let them know what it’s like to push themselves for long hours, hoping to build a nest egg, telling themselves it was worth it, that someday they could start a family without worrying about making ends meet.
Linda hadn’t understood. She was a taker, not a giver. In fact, she’d taken everything but the coffee-maker when she left. And only because the thing didn’t work worth a damn.
The front door opened and he casually slid a look at the new arrival. Early thirties, and well-heeled judging by the guy’s seven-hundred-dollar snakeskin boots and the gleaming gold Rolex on his wrist. Same yuppie type, but this guy wasn’t his boy. Bask had blond hair and stood half a foot shorter.
Dalton rubbed the back of his neck. His source had assured him that Bask stopped here for a shot of tequila most evenings. It would be just Dalton’s luck that tonight the guy decided to hop on the wagon.
“How long you gonna nurse that thing?” The bearded bartender threw a towel over his shoulder, put both hands on the bar and leaned forward, staring at Dalton.
“Give me something else.” Dalton pretended to study the bottles of booze lined up against the mirror. “How about a shot of that tequila?”
“You got it.” The bartender got out a glass and poured a hefty portion of the amber liquid. He set it in front of Dalton. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”
“Nope.” Dalton pretended to take a sip, and stopped the guy when he started to remove the beer.
“You waiting for someone?”
“You writing a book?”
The man put both his hands up and stepped back. “Just trying to make conversation, mister.”
“Hey,
