A Fortune's Texas Reunion. Allison Leigh
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in circles.
Her toes were painted a brilliant purple that matched the T-shirt that had crept up her stomach to reveal the low-cut waistband of her white shorts. They were diminutive, those shorts. Revealing both the small, thin gold hoop piercing in her navel as well as the sleek muscles in her thighs as she worked her legs.
He scooped up his hat and slapped it against his thigh a few times to shake off the dirt, then slid it on his head as he walked around the vehicle, taking pictures with the small digital camera from his duty belt. The only angle he couldn’t get to was the north side of the car, because he’d have to climb into the ravine to get it.
He went back up the hill, taking pictures of the path the car had taken as it rolled down. He took pictures of the spot it had left the road—obvious only because of the safety guard along the curve that had been torn away. He took a few measurements and made note of them to add to his report later, then returned to Georgia and handed her the sandals he’d found tossed clear of the car about twenty feet away. If she hadn’t been wearing her seat belt, it could have been her body tossed aside, too.
“You were lucky all the way around,” he told her. “Two feet to the right or left of the tree and we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.” He watched her slide on the shoes as she sat up. They were patterned flip-flops with thick foamy-looking rubber soles that added a good three inches to her height when she gingerly rolled to her feet. They also had a designer label that even a good ol’ boy like him could recognize.
The shoes didn’t mean she had money. But the expensive car that cost more than what he earned in a year sure did suggest it.
“Going to need to take a report of what happened, if you’re up to it.”
She brushed the dirt off the seat of her shorts and raked her fingers through her long hair, pushing it behind her shoulders. “Happy to cooperate, if I could even tell you what happened.” She looked up the embankment, where his SUV sat, red lights flashing, and he saw her sway.
He quickly caught her beneath her arm. “Steady there, ma’am.”
She pressed her hand to her head. “I preferred ‘NOLA girl,’” she murmured. “Doesn’t remind me how close I am to my thirtieth birthday.”
“And how close is that?”
She wrinkled her nose as she dropped her hand. “’Bout eighteen months.”
At least he knew she wasn’t a teenager.
He nodded toward the SUV. “Let’s get you up to the truck and you can sit down and get outta the heat.”
“Heat here is nothing compared to the hot soup we have back home.” She looked over her shoulder at the wrecked vehicle. “Nothing about that looks fixable to me.”
“No, ma’am.”
Her lips turned down. “I just got it, too. Picked it up yesterday morning before I left town. It drove perfectly all the way to Shreveport. I stayed the night there, then started out again this morning.” She sighed audibly, then turned toward the embankment, taking a first step. He let go of her, but hung behind to lend a hand the second she looked in need of it.
Unfortunately, that meant he had a close-up view of her hind end as they progressed up the steep hill.
Only a few sliding steps in those platform sandals, though, and Pax took her arm again. One rescue a day was enough.
Before they made it to the top, he saw Charlie Esparza pulling up in his wrecker. Pax waved at the skinny man when he nimbly hopped down from the truck. Without waiting, Charlie started skidding down the hill toward them. “Bad spot t’go off,” he said breathlessly. “No skidding, either.” He lifted his cap long enough to reveal his white hair, then took Georgia’s other arm. He was barely taller than her. “Any more vics?”
Pax shook his head and soon the three of them were safely back on the roadside. He settled Georgia in the back seat of his SUV with the AC running and a fresh bottle of water. He left the door open, though, not wanting her to feel like he’d taken her into custody.
For one, she hadn’t done anything wrong that he could determine. He’d smelled no alcohol on her. There was no evidence of drugs. In fact, there was no evidence of anything to explain why she’d careened off the highway without seeming to make any attempt at avoiding it.
As Charlie had observed, no skid. Meaning no braking.
While Charlie headed back down to the wreckage dragging his long winch cable with him, Pax checked in with Connie again. The ambulance was still en route. He pulled out his metal clipboard and flipped it open to fish a blank report from the contents inside, and leaned against the side of the SUV next to the opened door. He kept his focus on the form, even though the sight of Georgia’s bare legs beckoned. His fingers tingled and he clicked his pen a few times.
“You say you just picked up the car yesterday? Is it a rental?” If it was, it was a pretty specialized one.
“No, it’s mine.” Her fingers turned the water bottle this way and that. “First sports car I’ve ever owned. My purse is still in the car. My license. The registration. And my suitcase—”
“We’ll take care of that once Charlie pulls the car up. Where were you heading? Paseo’s not usually a person’s final destination. Too small. Not enough services. I can help you get to Amber Falls, though. Is there someone I can contact for you? Parents? Boyfriend?”
She bit her lip, looking in danger of crying again. “I was heading for Paseo, though. In fact, I was looking for the turnoff when—” She broke off, swallowing. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “My, uh, my oldest brother, Austin, is the best one to contact. He’s here with Felicity. His girlfriend. She’s lovely and actually is lightening up my brother. He’s way too serious, and...” She trailed off as if realizing she’d been rambling.
To a person, Pax knew everyone in town. The only Austin he knew of didn’t have a girlfriend and definitely wasn’t too serious. In fact, just last month he’d celebrated his third birthday with a party at Rosa’s Mexican restaurant. Pax had stopped in to say hello because he’d been filling his gas tank at the pumps in front of the restaurant, which also doubled as a grocery store. “What’s your brother’s last name?”
Her blue eyes peered at him from behind her wrist. “Fortune.”
Pax exhaled, stifling a curse.
Naturally, it would be Fortune.
He’d grown up in Paseo. Aside from the years he’d spent in Dallas, he’d lived here his entire life. And until a week ago, the only Fortunes he’d personally known were Jayden, Nathan and Grayson. And their mom, Deborah. Good, normal folk who’d had no connection at all to the famous Fortunes that made their homes elsewhere in the state.
Or so he’d thought.
Now, since Deborah was getting hitched to that eccentric billionaire who was connected and also happened to be the father of Deborah’s three sons, the area was overrun with all manner of people bearing that particular name.
And his peaceful little town had been turned upside down as a result. They’d filled up the little motel. And when that wasn’t enough, they’d set up a camp on his mom’s piece of land.
People like his mom and Rosa Hernandez, who had her whole family helping her provide enough food to feed the crowd at the makeshift campground, were benefiting financially, but Pax found it all a headache.
He clicked his pen a few times. “I should’ve known when I saw the make of the car,” he muttered. In the last few days, there’d been more luxury vehicles traveling this small stretch of highway than in the last decade. Before that, it had been semis and buses transporting all manner of things to his little spot of paradise.
What was usually his haven had turned into the worst kind of circus. Paseo. The newest playground for the rich and famous.
Which now included