Page 60 of One in a Million
The question hadn’t occurred to Lila until now, but the answer came to her at once. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll arrange with the mortuary to pick it up when it’s released. We’ll bury him here, on the ranch.”
* * *
The sun had cleared the horizon by the time the three hunters returned to the ranch, tired, irritable, and empty-handed.
“We combed every inch of those pastures,” Darrin grumbled as Jasmine met him in the kitchen. “We even threw rocks into that patch of mesquite. But we never caught a glimpse of that damned, murdering beast. All we saw were its tracks. But we did see a goat it had killed. At least it might not be hungry for a while.”
“Maybe it’s too smart for you,” Jasmine said.
“Shut up.” Darrin took a seat at the kitchen table and dug into the plate of bacon and scrambled eggs Mariah had set before him. He was the only one eating in the kitchen. Roper had headed for the stables to start his work. Sam had filled a mug of coffee, snatched an oatmeal cookie off a plate, and strode out the door. Guessing that he was headed for his bungalow, Jasmine took a shortcut through the house and was waiting on the porch when he arrived.
“Was it that bad?” she asked, taking stock of his dour expression.
“If you mean, was it a waste of time? Yes. And I can’t say much for the company, either.” Balancing the cookie atop the mug, he unlocked the door, leaving it open for her to follow him inside.
She closed the door behind her. “I just wanted to thank you for keeping Charlie at bay this morning. He’s got a big mouth. If he’d been with you, he could have put me in a lot of trouble.”
“This isn’t just about trouble anymore, Jasmine.” Sam set his makeshift breakfast on the table. “A man has died because of what your so-called friends did. You could be charged as an accessory to wrongful death, negligent homicide, or even manslaughter.”
As the words struck home, Jasmine knew what she had to say. “Then I can’t involve you anymore, Sam. I’ve already caused enough problems for you. You need to step back and let me deal with Charlie on my own.”
She saw the conflict in Sam’s face. If he helped her buy Charlie off and something went wrong, he could be implicated, too. He could lose his career, maybe even his freedom. She could tell he wanted to help her. But she couldn’t allow it.
“I can handle Charlie,” she said. “He may drive a hard bargain, but he won’t hurt me. I’ve got my checkbook in my purse, and I know how much is in my account. I’m prepared to pay him whatever it takes to get my bracelet back and to buy his silence.”
“Jasmine, you don’t have to go alone.”
“Yes, I do. You saved me once. Now it’s my turn to save myself.” Before he could argue, she stepped out the door and closed it behind her. She needed to go now, this minute, before she lost her nerve.
With her purse slung over her shoulder, she strode around the house to the vehicle shed, climbed into her red Corvette, and took the road to Charlie’s place.
The main gate was open. Jasmine drove through and pulled up to the house. Charlie, freshly washed and shaved, was drinking coffee at a small table on the veranda. Rising, he greeted her with the smile of a man who knows he can’t lose.
“Well, now, if it isn’t Miss Jasmine Culhane, come to pay a call. Where’s your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, and this isn’t about him,” Jasmine said. “This is between you and me. I’ve got my checkbook in my purse. I’m prepared to negotiate for the bracelet—and your promise that once we’ve reached an agreement, I was never here that night. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.” He beckoned her up the steps, offered a chair, and took his seat to face her across the table. “All right, Miss Jasmine, make me an offer.”
“Five thousand dollars,” she said, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.
“You’re joking. That wouldn’t buy me a hot weekend in Vegas.”
“All right, ten.”
Jasmine had a little over twenty thousand dollars in her account. But without her father’s generosity to depend on, she would have to make it last until she could find a job.
Did Charlie know that his escaped animal had killed a man? If he did, his asking price for the bracelet would soar. She was holding back one ace—but to play it would break her heart.
“Get serious, Jasmine. That bracelet could put you away. What’s your freedom worth?” He gave her a playful wink.
Her face went hot. “If you think I’d—”
He roared with laughter. “You put a high price on yourself, lady—especially for soiled goods. But a hundred-dollar whore would give me better loving than I could get from you. You’ve got to do better than that.”
“Fifteen thousand, then. That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”
“And if I choose to leave it?” He was enjoying this.