Alice Sharpe - Cowboy Undercover

Their budding romance had died that night and eventually turned into an acerbic interchange of half-veiled insults and sarcasm.

Yet here they were.

“Knock it off,” she scolded herself. “Think of something pleasant.”

* * *

“LILY? LILY, WAKE UP,” Chance said for the second time that day, he shook Lily’s shoulder.

She was slow to respond at first and then she sat bolt upright. “Oh, God, I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Almost one. We slept for hours.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Well, at least the credit union will be open. Let’s go.”

Once inside the building, Chance looked askance at all the security cameras and wondered if anyone there knew about the warrant out for Lily. Thanks to the black glasses and baggy clothes, she looked more like a refugee from a homeless camp than a patron of a downtown banking establishment, but would someone call the cops as soon as she announced her identity? He decided to keep his fears to himself and just stay alert for any sign of trouble.

She went through the security measures to access her box and disappeared with the attendant. A few minutes later, she returned, a couple of fat manila envelopes peeking from the top of her oversize handbag. He took her arm and they left together. The whole thing had taken less than fifteen minutes.

“We need to find someplace private to go through and sort all this,” she said as she hugged her purse as if it was a precious baby. “I’d forgotten how much stuff I collected.”

“Let’s get a room somewhere,” Chance said.

“Good idea.”

They found a room and paid using Chance’s credit card and name. Once inside, Lily removed the thick glasses before upending both envelopes onto the small round table. The contents came spilling out.

“Yikes,” Chance said. The thought of trying to make sense of all that paper was mind-boggling. Maybe he should have stayed at Hastings Ridge and rounded up heifers, which was a lot more fun than pushing papers around. Of course he didn’t say any of this to Lily who would just remind him he was here because he’d wanted to be.

She flashed him an understanding smile and sat down. “I think we should get the clippings into one pile, receipts into another, memos into a third and miscellaneous off over there.”

For more than an hour they sorted and organized in near silence. Chance was anxious to do something about Charlie and he knew Lily was, too. It made sense to try to find something she could use against Block in some way, but it seemed unlikely they had sufficient time to make such a discovery.

“Let’s go to your husband’s house,” Chance finally said. One more useless receipt and he was going to scream.

“No. He doesn’t get home from work until six thirty or so.”

“So we’ll get there before he’s home.”

“Not a good idea. I want to catch him unaware.”

“You said earlier that he knew you’d come after Charlie.”

“I know, but he doesn’t know when or how. Be patient.”

“We’re not going to be able to wade through all of this in one afternoon,” Chance said, gesturing at all the bits and scraps of papers before them.

“You’re probably right. I’m going to go take a shower and change clothes. I hope the clothes in my emergency escape suitcase still fit.”

Chance walked over to the window. He stood looking out into the parking lot for a few minutes. Was she getting gussied up for Jeremy Block? That was a disquieting thought.

With a sigh, he returned to the papers. Thirty minutes later, his heartbeat quickened as he detected the first clear pattern he’d come across in the form of several orders from a florist shop in Boise. He stacked them apart in order of ascending dates. The deliveries were spaced at intervals of seven days and all went to the same address. Without knowing his way around this city, he had no idea if they went to an individual or a business. For all he knew, they could be flowers Block purchased for his office or his secretary’s desk or even for the house he’d shared with Lily.

For a second he rubbed his eyes. The long nap in the car had taken the edge off fatigue, but he was still tired. Sleep had been so elusive lately. He felt if he laid his head down he’d fall into slumber for a hundred years and wake up ready to punch Block in the nose, reunite Charlie with his mother and take them both back to the ranch and...

Wait a second . Was this about Lily and the fantasy he entertained on long nights that someday he and she...

Oh, please, don’t go that route , he cautioned himself. Don’t pretend because she needs your help she actually wants you .

He looked up when a noise at the bathroom door caught his attention. Lily emerged with her soft brown hair waving around her heart-shaped face. Gone were the baggy dress and long, limp sweater, and in their place, tight black jeans, a black form-fitting top and a brown leather belt that matched her boots. She’d gone from plain Jane to a country-Western knockout and he swallowed a jolt of desire that shot through his body like a lightning bolt.

“Feel better?” he managed to say in a voice that sounded remarkably steady.

“A lot better,” she murmured. Her gaze dropped to the stack in front of him. “Did you find anything?”

He tore his mind from the lovely curves and dips of her body around which the top had molded itself. “I don’t know. Where is Vance Street?”

“Vance. I’m not sure.”

He punched the address into his phone and showed her the resulting map. “That’s over in the Tower District,” she said. “Mostly condos.”

“But you and Jeremy didn’t live there?”

“No. His family had money of its own. When his father died, he left Jeremy a house and a little land right outside the city. Jeremy pictures himself lord of the manor.”

“He sent flowers to this address once a week for several months near the end of the period when you lived together.”

“Flowers? Really?” she said as her huge brown eyes came alive. “Jeremy hates cut flowers. I don’t think he ever bought me a single rose. There must be a special reason why he did that.”

“It could be nothing,” Chance cautioned.

“Or it could be he was seeing someone else,” Lily said. “Oh, my gosh, I bet he was having an affair. This is great!” She started pacing the room again, gesturing, suddenly animated. “If he’s involved with someone else, maybe I can use that as leverage.” She grabbed her handbag off the back of a chair and the baggy gray sweater from the bed. “Let’s go check out that address.”

He took the keys from his pocket, ready for action of any kind.

* * *

1801 VANCE STREET turned out to be located within a small villa of condos arranged around a central courtyard, all encased within the confines of an ornate iron fence. At this time of year, the pool had been drained and covered in preparation for cold weather. The trees were a riot of color, leaves drifting to the ground as the wind teased them loose.

They found a row of brass mailboxes built into a small arch near the street. The name on 1801 was V. Richards.

“Vicky, Valerie, Vivian?” Lily mused.

“Or Vincent, Victor, Val,” Chance said.

“How do we find out?”

“We ask.”

She looked around at the complete absence of other people and raised her eyebrows.

“Look, at the risk of making you mad, how about you let me knock on the door and see what I can find out.”

“Why you?” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“What if this person is actually home and what if you know them or they recognize your face? You aren’t disguised, remember?”

“I know. But so what?”

“So they call Block, Block calls the cops, Charlie spends the next twelve years living with daddy dearest.”