The Virgin Mistress. Linda Turner

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The Virgin Mistress - Linda  Turner


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death. I bet everyone who’s named in your will was here on Saturday night, weren’t they?”

      Not liking that one little bit, Joe growled, “Are you saying you agree with the police? I need to be suspicious of my own family?”

      He gave him a look that had, no doubt, made lesser men quake in their shoes, but Austin didn’t so much as blink. Joe had called him down to Prosperino to do a job, and he intended to do it—even when that meant telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

      “I won’t know that until I examine the facts and talk to the witnesses,” he said honestly. “Only time will tell. For your sake, I hope the shooter’s not someone in the family, but if that’s who it turns out to be, you’ll have to deal with it. You could end up dead if you don’t.”

      His expression grim, Joe had little choice but to agree with him. “Just find out who it is as quickly as possible. This not knowing is eating me alive.”

      “I’ll get on it first thing in the morning,” Austin promised. “After I read your accounting of the shooting and get a feel for what happened.”

      Satisfied, Joe couldn’t ask for anything more. “Good. Do what you have to do.” Pulling out the top drawer of his desk, he removed a key and slid it across the desk to him. “Here. I had you a key to the house made. I want you to feel free to come and go here as much as you like. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask. If I’m not around, Meredith should be, and I’ll instruct Inez to cooperate with you in whatever way she can.”

      Rising to his feet, Austin held out his hand. “Thanks, Joe. That’ll help a lot.”

      Anxious to read Joe’s accounting of the shooting, he would have left then, but Meredith bustled in just then, looking flustered and more than a little put out. “Austin! I told Inez to let me know when you arrived, but as usual, she ignored me. I don’t know why we keep her on. She doesn’t follow orders and she’s only a competent cook, at best.”

      “Inez is a part of the family,” Joe said with a disapproving frown. “As for her cooking, I’m sure Austin would agree that she makes the best chocolate cake on the planet.”

      “Oh, yeah,” Austin agreed with a quick grin, his mouth watering just at the memory of some of the great meals he’d had there as a kid. “And don’t forget her chicken enchiladas. They’re fantastic.”

      Far from appeased, Meredith only sniffed. “If you like that sort of thing. But she still doesn’t follow orders worth a damn.”

      Studying his aunt, Austin frowned slightly, surprised by her attitude. From what he remembered, Meredith and Inez had never had an employer-servant type of relationship. They’d always worked together to make the house a comfortable and inviting home, so there’d been no such thing as orders between them. When had that changed?

      “She said something about starting supper,” he said. “Maybe she just forgot.”

      “She always forgets, but at least she does serve the meals on time. I suppose that’s something.” Dismissing the subject with a shrug of her slender shoulders, she turned a bright smile on Austin. “There won’t be any chicken enchiladas for supper, but there is chocolate cake for dessert. Inez just made one yesterday. You are staying to eat with us, aren’t you? It’s just the family—the boys and Rebecca. I had planned to include Senator Hays—he and his wife know everyone who’s anyone in the California social scene—but Joe wanted a quiet evening at home.”

      Grimacing as if she couldn’t understand that, she added, “Please stay. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, and I’m just dying to know how you’re going to find out who tried to kill Joe. Where do you even begin? Obviously, you’re smarter than the police—”

      “Leave the boy alone, Meredith,” Joe growled. “He just got here, for God’s sake! He hasn’t even had time to read my notes, and when he does start investigating the case, you can be damn sure he’s not going to talk about it to you or anyone else. So don’t pester him. He’ll let me know when he’s narrowed down a suspect.”

      For just a second, her brown eyes snapped with fire, and Austin thought she was going to let his uncle have it with a few choice words, which was surprising. All couples had their moments when they irritated each other, but from what Austin remembered, there had always been a deep affection between Joe and Meredith that had been obvious even when they disagreed. But not today. If Austin hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn they thoroughly disliked each other. What the devil was going on here?

      Before he could even think about asking, Meredith smiled coolly and confided to Austin, “Don’t pay any attention to him when he growls, Austin. I don’t. Will you stay for dinner?”

      Already on the job and intrigued by the tension that crackled between his aunt and uncle, Austin wouldn’t have missed it for the world. “I’d be delighted.”

      The food was great, just as Austin had expected, and the best home cooking he’d had in a long time. But it was the company that held his full attention. Joe and Meredith were civil to each other, and to all appearances, they seemed to be like any other couple who’d made up after a disagreement. Austin, however, had learned a long time ago not to be taken in by appearances. Whatever was going on between his aunt and uncle went deep.

      And then there were the kids—Emily, Joe Junior, and Teddy. Austin supposed he could hardly call Emily a child anymore. Adopted by Joe and Meredith when she was just a toddler, she was now eighteen and a sweet, pretty, self-possessed young woman. Her brothers, however, weren’t nearly as mature. Nine and seven respectively, Joe Junior and Teddy were both good-looking boys and growing like weeds. And much to their discomfort, they were the apple of their mother’s eye. She watched over their every move, fussing over them until they both squirmed. “Don’t slouch, Joe. Teddy, eat your vegetables. You know you can’t have cake later if you don’t clean your plate.”

      “Geez, Mom!”

      “I don’t know why we have to eat broccoli. Dad doesn’t.”

      “Because Mother knows what’s best for you, and if your father doesn’t want to eat properly so he’ll be healthy, he’s the one who’ll pay the price. Teddy, you know better than to use your salad fork for the entree. Please eat correctly.”

      They both shot her rebellious looks when she wasn’t looking, and Austin couldn’t say he blamed them. He’d always hated someone picking at him when he ate when he was a kid. As far as he could remember, Meredith had never done that with the older children. She certainly wasn’t with Emily—she hardly spared her a glance. Why was she so protective of the boys?

      And then there was Rebecca Powell, who sat across the table from him. Where did she fit in in the family dynamics? He knew he’d met her before, when she’d first come to the ranch as a foster child after Meredith had come to her aid at the Hopechest Ranch, a shelter for children from troubled homes where she’d donated much of her time. He didn’t remember—if he’d ever known—the circumstances that had brought Rebecca to the shelter, but she’d touched Meredith’s heart so deeply that she and Joe had offered her a home with them, just as they had other lost children over the years. Now in her early thirties, Rebecca was still very much a part of the family.

      And far more beautiful than he remembered.

      Caught off guard by the direction of his thoughts, Austin stiffened. Oh, no, he told himself. He wasn’t going there. Rebecca was pretty—he’d give her that. Tall and willowy, with the grace and height of a dancer, she was modestly dressed in a skirt and blouse and wore her long brown hair in a French braid that fell halfway down her back. Normally, Austin doubted he would have even noticed her because she was quiet and shy and did little to call attention to herself. But for some reason, that only made her harder to ignore. She didn’t say much, but beneath her thick, dark lashes, she sneaked a peek at him, and one look at those soulful, blue-gray eyes of hers and Austin felt like he’d been kicked in the heart.

      Surprised, he frowned and tried to convince himself he’d


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