Page 41 of One in a Million
Everyone seemed to be looking in their direction now. Madeleine had stopped talking, her sharp eyes fixed in an angry glare. Jasmine would have given anything to shrink into the ground and disappear. “Just go, Charlie,” she muttered. “Go before I have you arrested for trespassing!”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He seized her arm, his grip strong enough to hurt. “You’d open your legs for any cowboy who feeds you a line, but you won’t give the time of day to a respectable man who’s standing right in front of you with his heart in his hand! You’ve been leading me on since high school, but you never delivered. Not to me. I guess I’m just not good enough for you.”
They were the center of attention now. His grip tightened, twisting painfully. “I’ll go, all right. But only if you come with me.”
“That’s enough, Grishman. Let her go.” The voice was Sam’s, his hands breaking Charlie’s grip, wrenching him away from her, setting her free.
Burning with humiliation, Jasmine couldn’t look at Sam, not even to thank him. Right now, she couldn’t look at anybody. Wheeling away, she plunged toward the house.
Crossing the porch, she fled past a startled Lila, burst through the front door, and raced up the stairs to her room. There she literally ripped off her lace dress, flung away her heels and hose, and pulled on ragged jeans, a faded tee, and boots. Then she was flying down the back stairs and out through the kitchen door to the shed where her red Corvette was stored.
As she settled behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot, her tears caught up with her. They dried to salty streaks in the wind that blasted her face as she drove, not knowing or caring where she was going. She had been on her best behavior at the memorial. But that hadn’t mattered. With Charlie’s help, she’d managed to humiliate herself and create a public scandal that would stay with her, like a disfiguring disease, for as long as she remained in Texas.
* * *
Sam had collared Charlie Grishman and was marching him across the crowded parking lot to his truck. When Jasmine rocketed past him in her red convertible and swung onto the main road, he knew she was headed for Willow Bend and the saloon.
For the space of a breath, he was tempted to go after her, to talk some sense into the woman, and bring her back to the ranch. But Jasmine was an adult. It wasn’t in his job description to babysit her. Even if he were to try, she’d be in no mood to listen to him. He could only hope she wouldn’t drink too much and pick up another sweet-talking cowboy.
And right now he had a different priority. Charlie, whom he’d all but dismissed as a suspect, had just presented him with a motive for killing Frank. That motive was Jasmine. And he showed signs of being in the mood to talk.
After he’d waded into the crowd to rescue Jasmine, it had taken all of Sam’s self-control to keep from smashing Charlie’s face with his fist. But he would have to answer for that kind of violence. Now he was glad he’d given the man some slack. For now, he would continue to play the good cop role and gain Charlie’s confidence.
“That little bitch has been waggin’ her butt at me since high school,” Charlie grumbled. “But she never would let me get close. I thought maybe it was because of her old man.”
“You mean Frank? He didn’t approve of your courting his daughter?”
“Didn’t approve? Hell, he threatened to kill me if I came within a mile of her.”
“So what did you do about that?”
“I didn’t murder him, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I didn’t give up. I’d call her every once in a while, send her little notes through the mail. I even had flowers delivered a couple of times, when I knew she was home. I figured now that Frank was gone, I might have a chance with her.”
“Maybe it’s time you set your sights on a different woman, Charlie.” They’d reached his vehicle in the parking lot. “For the record, where were you the night Frank was killed?”
“Home in bed. I’d had a hunt earlier that evening, and it wore me out. Slept like a log. But since I live alone, I can’t prove it.”
“So you could’ve made the trip, lured Frank or found him with his horse, killed him, and returned home without anyone knowing.”
“I could, but I didn’t. I swear to God.”
“Would you be willing to put your word to a short test?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Let’s just say that if you’re telling the truth, it might cast you in a better light. And it would help me test a theory I have. Come on.”
Sam guided the nervous Charlie back through the parking lot to the stable. Roper wouldn’t like what he was about to do, but he would take that chance.
The dimly lit stable was quiet except for the soft chuffing and blowing of horses as Sam led Charlie to the stall where, as he remembered, One in a Million had been moved. Taking care, he slid the gate open far enough to step inside.
The stallion was there, raising his majestic head as Sam entered first. So far, the great horse appeared calm. How would he react if Charlie had been the one to kill his owner?
“It’s all right, big boy,” Sam murmured. “You’re fine.”
Behind him, Charlie whimpered. “Get me out of here. I don’t like horses. They don’t like me.”
“Shut up, Charlie. It’s just for a minute.” Sam pulled his companion into the stall.