A Dangerous Inheritance. Leona Karr
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them. Josh frowned when he saw that Stacy was out of the car. Where was she going? He’d taken care of his business as quickly as he could, explaining to Marci’s boss what had happened and what needed to be done right away to keep the whole bridge from collapsing.
He’d even told Marci that he was in a hurry, but she’d insisted on walking out with him to meet the woman who had crashed into his bridge. When he’d told her that Stacy Ashford was the new owner of the Haverly Hotel, Marci’s hazel eyes had nearly popped out of her head.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Does she resemble that kooky Willard?”
“I’ll let you judge for yourself,” Josh answered with a slight smile.
When he introduced them, Josh could tell Marci was astounded to find kooky Willard’s niece to be a petite, shapely young woman whose steady blue eyes regarded her with clear assessment.
Marci quipped in a light, not-so-amused way, “So Josh played the hero and waded through rain, wind and lightning to save you.”
Stacy nodded, thinking that it didn’t take a psychic to know that Marci Tanner wasn’t pleased about her having spent the night at Josh Spencer’s house. There was jealousy sparking every word. Impulsively Stacy gave Josh a smile that could mean anything. “Yes, he was very hospitable.”
“Oh, Josh doesn’t pay any attention to what people think, do you, handsome?” Marci came back with deadly aim. “He was one of the few townspeople who didn’t go around talking about your uncle’s stupidity when he had a heart attack carrying a huge hunk of marble up the hillside all by himself.”
Stacy knew that her uncle had died of a heart attack, but the lawyer hadn’t elaborated. What else didn’t she know?
Josh gave Marci a silencing look as he urged Stacy back in the truck.
“I’ll see you later, Josh, won’t I?” Marci queried in a suggestive tone.
“Don’t know,” he answered shortly. Marci was still standing there, watching as they pulled away from the curb. Damn, he silently swore. Women!
He saw Stacy swallow hard as if trying to get control of her emotions. Marci’s remarks about her uncle had hit home. No telling what she was going to have to face when he delivered her to that abominable hotel. Josh had sworn he never wanted to lay eyes on the place, and he had purposefully avoided it after Sheriff Mosley had concluded his halfhearted investigation into Glenda’s death and Malo Renquist’s disappearance.
“Time for a midmorning coffee,” he said as much for himself as for her. Without waiting for her nod of agreement, he pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant at the western edge of Timberlane named Alice’s Pantry.
“I’ll wait for you,” she said with a determined lift of her chin.
“Is that what you plan to do? Hide out and run scared?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then you’d better figure it out,” he said flatly. “Unless you forge your own path and reputation, you’re going to be stuck with your uncle Willard’s. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t care what other people think or say about me.”
“Maybe you should,” he answered flatly, wondering why in the world he was bothering to try and steer her into making her own impression on the town. Just because she’d plowed into his bridge didn’t mean that he had any responsibility toward her. He’d never been one to stick his nose in other people’s affairs, and what happened to Stacy Ashford and her blasted inheritance was none of his business. “Have you ever lived in a small town?”
“No, I was born and raised in Garden Grove, a suburb of L.A. After I graduated from Stanford with a business degree, I took a job in a California marketing firm.” She gave her dark head a toss. “And that’s where I’ll be heading back as soon as I fulfill Uncle Willard’s will and claim my inheritance.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” he agreed, “but small towns can be vicious sometimes when it comes to outsiders. Why don’t you let me introduce you around? Might make your stay more pleasant. Better to let everyone have a look at you before the grapevine gets hold of the news that you’re in Timberlane.” Without waiting for her answer, he got out of the pickup, walked around to her side and opened the door.
Stacy hesitated, then straightening her shoulders, she gave him a wry smile. “All right. Lead me to the slaughter.”
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