Proof Of Innocence. Lisa Jackson

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Proof Of Innocence - Lisa  Jackson


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      “What have to decided to do about McFadden?” Keith asked, forking a generous helping of bacon onto his plate.

      “I don’t know,” Tory admitted. She took a bite from a strip of bacon. “Maybe there’s nothing I can do.”

      “Like hell. You could leave.”

      “Not a chance, we went over this yesterday.” She reached for the coffeepot and poured each of them a cup of coffee.

      “McFadden will come here.”

      “He already has.”

      “What!” Keith’s face lost all of its color. “When?”

      “Last night. While you were in town.”

      Keith rubbed his palm over the reddish stubble on his chin. “Damn, I knew something like this would happen.”

      “It wasn’t that big of a deal. We just talked.”

      Keith looked at his older sister as if she had lost her mind. “You did what?” he shouted, rising from the breakfast table.

      “I said I talked with him. How else was I supposed to find out what he wanted?”

      Keith’s worried eyes studied her face. “So what happened to the woman who, just yesterday afternoon, was going to bodily throw Trask McFadden off her land if he set foot on it. You know, the lady with the ready rifle and deadly aim?”

      “Now, wait a minute—” Tory’s face lost all of its color and her eyes narrowed.

      “Weren’t you the one who suggested that we point a rifle at his head and tell him to get lost?”

      “I was only joking...”

      “Like hell!” Keith sputtered before truly seeing his sister for the first time that morning. A sinking realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Tory, you’re still in love with him, aren’t you? I can’t believe it! After what he did to you?” Keith stared at his sister incredulously before stalking over to the refrigerator and pouring himself a large glass of milk. “This isn’t happening,” he said, as if to console himself. “This is all just a bad dream...”

      “I’m not in love with him, Keith,” Tory said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and turning her face upward in order to meet Keith’s disbelieving gaze.

      “But you were once.”

      “Before he testified against Dad.”

      “Goddamn,” Keith muttered as he sucked in his breath and got hold of himself. His large fist curled in frustration. “I knew he’d show up the minute I left the ranch. What did he want?”

      “My help.”

      “Your what? I can’t believe it. After what he put you through? The nerve of that bastard!” He took a long swig from his glass with one hand, then motioned to his sister. “Well, go on, go on, this is getting better by the minute.”

      “He thinks that there may have been someone else involved in Jason’s murder and the horse swindle.”

      “Are you kiddin’?” Keith placed his empty glass on the counter and shook his head in disbelief. “After all this time? No way!”

      “That’s what I told him.”

      “But he didn’t buy it?”

      “I’d say not.”

      “Great! The dumb bastard will probably drag all of it up again. It’ll be in the papers and everything.” Keith paced between the table and the back door. He squinted against the bright morning sunshine streaming through the dusty windowpanes and looked toward the barn. “Dad’s name is sure to come up.”

      “Sit down and eat your breakfast,” Tory said, eyeing Keith’s neglected plate.

      Keith ignored her. “This is the last thing we need right now, you know. What with all the problems we’re having with the bank...” He swore violently, balled one fist and smashed it into his other palm. “I should never have left you last night, I knew it, damn it, I knew it!” His temper threatened to explode completely for a minute before he finally managed to contain his fury. Slowly uncurling his fist, he regained his composure and added with false optimism, “Oh, well, maybe McFadden got whatever it was he wanted off his chest and now it’s over.”

      Tory hated to burst Keith’s bubble, but she had always been straight with her brother, telling him about the problems with the ranch when they occurred. There was no reason to change now. “I don’t know that it’s over.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “I don’t think Trask is going to let up on this. He seemed pretty determined to me.” Tory had lost all interest in her breakfast and pushed her plate aside. Unconsciously she brushed the crumbs from the polished maple surface of the table.

      “But why? What’s got him all riled up after five years?” Keith wondered aloud. “His term as a senator isn’t up for another couple of years, so he isn’t looking for publicity...”

      “He got a letter.”

      Keith froze. He turned incredulous gray eyes on his sister. “Wait a minute. The man must get a ton of mail. What kind of a letter got under his skin?”

      “An anonymous one.”

      “So what?”

      No time like the present to drop the bomb, she supposed. With a feeling of utter frustration she stood, picked up her plate and set it near the sink. “If you want to read it, there’s a copy in the den, in the fireplace.”

      “In the fireplace! Wonderful,” Keith muttered sarcastically as he headed through the archway that opened to the short hallway separating the living room, kitchen, dining room and den.

      “Hey, what about this breakfast?” Tory called after him.

      “I’m not hungry,” Keith replied, from somewhere in the vicinity of the den.

      “Great,” Tory muttered under her breath as she put the uneaten pancakes and bacon on another plate. “Tomorrow morning it’s cold cereal for you, brother dear.” With a frown at the untouched food, she opened the door to the back porch and set the plate on the floorboards. Alex, the ranch’s ancient Border collie, stood on slightly arthritic legs and wagged his tail before helping himself to Keith’s breakfast.

      “Serves him right,” Tory told the old dog as she petted him fondly and scratched Alex’s black ears. “I’m glad someone appreciates my cooking.”

      Tory heard Keith return to the kitchen. With a final pat to Alex’s head, she straightened and walked into the house.

      Keith was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking for all the world as if he would drop through the floor. He was holding the crumpled and now slightly blackened piece of paper in his hands and his face had paled beneath his tan. He set the paper on the table and smoothed out the creases in the letter. “Holy shit.”

      “My sentiments exactly.”

      “So how does he think you could help him?” Keith asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

      “I don’t know. We never got that far.”

      “And this—” he pointed down at the paper “—is why he wanted to see you?”

      “That’s what he said.”

      Keith closed his eyes for a minute, trying to concentrate. “That’s a relief, I guess.”

      Tory raised an inquisitive brow. “Meaning?”

      Keith smiled sadly and shook his head. “That I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

      “Don’t worry, brother dear,” she assured him with a slightly cynical smile, “I don’t intend to be. But thanks


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