Chapter Twenty
Carrying a stuffed pink giraffe and a pair of tiny pink crocheted booties he couldn’t resist buying, Beau followed Cassidy up the stairs to the apartment above the Pleasant Hill Café. A Minnie Mouse baby bouncer Cassidy had picked out waited in the car, in a box that would barely fit inside.
After a quick stop at Burger King, he’d called Josie, so she and Missy were expecting them. Josie pulled open the door at his knock, but instead of a smile, a worried frown darkened her face.
“Come on in. Missy’s in the bedroom nursing Evie. She’ll be finished in just a minute.”
Nursing. He swallowed. Babies were completely foreign to him. He handed the booties to Josie, along with the giraffe, as he and Cassidy walked into the living room. He spotted a bassinet in the corner with a mobile made of tiny seahorses dangling above it. A soft pink blanket was draped over one end of the couch and there were stuffed animals scattered around, probably other gifts from friends.
“There’s a baby bouncer in the car,” Beau said.
“If you don’t already have one,” Cassidy added.
Josie smiled tiredly. “I loved the one I had for Missy when she was a baby, but we don’t have one for Evie. Room’s a little crowded, but we can make it work.”
“Let me just go get it.” Beau went back down to the car and brought the box upstairs. “It plays music and vibrates,” he said, hoping that was a good thing as he set the box down.
“It’s a wonderful gift. Thank you both very much.” She looked tired and frazzled, her blond hair dull and lifeless. It occurred to him that she was working full-time at the café, running the place one employee short without Missy, and trying to help her daughter care for her newborn.
“I’m forgetting my manners,” Josie said. “Would either of you like some coffee or a glass of iced tea?”
“Coffee sounds good,” Beau said.
“It’s chilly out.” Cassidy smiled. “Coffee sounds great. Let me help you with it.”
While the women were in the kitchen, Beau took the bouncer out of the box. It didn’t need tools for the assembly so he started putting it together. While he worked, he thought of Missy and mentally formulated a plan.
Hearing laughter and the rattle of glassware, he set the assembled bouncer aside as the women walked back into the living room.
“Oh, you put it together!” Cassidy grinned excitedly and handed him a steaming mug, then sat down on the sofa beside him.
“Minnie Mouse,” Josie said, looking at the design on the seat cushion. “That is so cute.”
Beau took a drink of coffee, felt the warmth spread through him. “How’re they doing? Is the baby okay?”
“The baby’s doing fine.” Josie sat down in an overstuffed green chair that matched the sofa. “Such a sweet little thing. But Missy’s tired. She has to get up at all hours of the night to nurse. She doesn’t mind it, though. She loves her little girl.”
“You look tired, too, Josie,” Beau said. “I know it can’t be easy, taking care of Missy and Evie and trying to run the café. I was thinking . . . How would you feel about getting some extra help in here? I could find someone. Or maybe you know someone who’d be good with the baby.”
Josie just shook her head. “We don’t have enough room for someone else, Beau. It’s nice of you to offer, though.”
He sipped his coffee. “I’ve got an even better idea. How about moving into a bigger place? Sooner or later Missy is going to need a house of her own. It might as well be now.”
“We can’t afford that, Beau,” Missy said as she came through the bedroom door.
He looked at the little pink bundle in the slender girl’s arms and something shifted and softened inside him. “I know you can’t, but I can. Do you think you and your mom could carve out enough time to look at a few houses? You could pick out something big enough for you and your mom and someone to help with the baby. We could close the sale as soon as possible. What do you think?”
Missy looked dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious. You want to buy me a house?”
“Why not? I can afford it, and you and my little sister need a place to live.”
Missy sat down in the other chair, the baby cradled gently in her arms. “It’s too much, Beau. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”
Beau glanced at Cassidy for support, but she was clearly staying out of it. He turned to the older woman. “What do you think, Josie? We could find something that isn’t too far from the café.”
Josie’s gaze went to her daughter, relief clear in her face. He’d known she was worried. He hadn’t been sure what about. “If Beau wants to do this for you and his sister, I don’t see why you should refuse.”
Missy’s eyes filled with tears. For the first time, he understood what his father had seen in the girl. There was something unpretentious about Missy, something wholesome and good.
“Do you mean it?” she asked.
“Of course I mean it. Josie, you must know a Realtor who’d do a good job for you. Can you line someone up?”
“Diane Ellison is good. I can give her a call.”
“I’ll call her, too,” Beau said. “Explain how this is going to work. All right?”
Missy rose and walked to where he sat on the sofa. Leaning down, she settled the sleeping baby gently in his arms. He looked down at the innocent face and felt as if a tiny hand had reached out and touched his heart. His gaze went to Cassidy. She was watching him with misty eyes.
He looked back down at the baby, sat there for several minutes just staring, studying the miniature fingers and tiny bow-shaped mouth. By now he should have had a child of his own, more than one, if he’d had his way. He glanced back at Cassidy. If things were different . . . if he were a different man . . .
He handed the baby back to Missy and rose from the sofa. “You got the check I sent?” he asked a little gruffly.
“We got it,” Josie said. “Thank you.”
Beau leaned over and kissed Missy’s cheek. “Take care of our girl, okay?”
She just nodded. “Thanks for the presents, Beau, especially the bouncer. I really wanted one, but I didn’t want to spend the money.”
“That’s from Cassidy,” Beau said, glancing her way. Didn’t matter that he had paid for it; she was the one who had picked it out.
They walked outside together, headed back down the stairs to the Lamborghini.
“You’re a good man, Beau Reese,” Cassidy said as she slid into the vehicle.
Beau thought that if he were a better, smarter man, he would latch on to Cassidy Jones and never let go. It wasn’t going to happen. For now, he needed her to help him prove his innocence. He needed her and he wanted her, but he would never risk the closeness he had shared with Sarah.
“We have to go back and figure out what to do next,” Cassidy said, putting the conversation back on track as he pulled onto the highway and headed for Dallas. “We need to go over what we know, and figure things out.”
Figure things out. Beau wished it were that easy.
* * *
“No paparazzi,” Cassidy said as the Lamborghini turned into Beau’s driveway. “How does it feel to be yesterday’s news?”
“It isn’t the first time. I was dead to the press the minute I stopped racing, which was fine with me.”
Beau drove into the garage and turned off the engine, the Lamborghini’s doors slid up and they climbed out of the car.
Pausing in the kitchen to grab a couple of Diet Cokes, they headed down the hall to the study. Instead of sitting at the partners’ desk, Cassidy retrieved a yellow legal pad from her briefcase and grabbed a pen; then she and Beau sat down at a table in the corner.
She set the pad down in front of her. “Not exactly twenty-first century, but it’ll give us a chance to organize our thoughts.” They needed to go through the information they had come up with, look at it from different angles.
She picked up the pen. “Okay, let’s start with what we know—and keep in mind this is only a working theory. The more we find out, the more it’s likely to change.”
Beau took a long drink of his Coke. Cassidy watched the muscles in his throat move up and down and tried not to think how sexy he looked. God, she had it bad.
“All right,” Beau said. “We have two murder victims, but we can’t be sure the murders are connected. Briscoe could be right—someone could have set me up because I was already a suspect in my father’s death. Milford’s killer thought he could blame it on me and get away clean.”
“It’s a possibility. But in both cases, the killer was extremely efficient, leaving no fingerprints or DNA. In Milford’s case, the bullet to the head was neat and efficient. Whoever did it, had to know the police wouldn’t have enough to prosecute you for Milford. More likely, the killer or killers wanted you out of the way so you wouldn’t keep digging, trying to find out who murdered the senator.” Cassidy jotted down a few notes.
“So we’ll assume the murders are connected,” Beau said.
“For now. It makes the most sense. Your father and stepmother owned Alamo. Milford was a longtime employee. We know there was an arson fire that destroyed Alamo’s unfinished apartment project and that Milford was fired two days before it happened, probably to get him out of the way.”
“Charlotte was convinced my father was responsible for the fire. The real estate market changed, the project would have tanked, and my father would have lost a lot of money.”
“Instead, he made a profit,” Cassidy said.
“Money he used to pay off Vaughn’s Equity Advance construction loan.”
“Some of it, but not all.”
“Which gave Vaughn a motive for murder,” Beau finished.
Cassidy jotted down a few more notes, but she was still unconvinced. “Let’s back up a little. What about Milford? Vaughn wouldn’t have had a motive for killing Jess Milford.”
Beau rubbed the back of his neck as he pondered the thought. “Maybe he would have. Vaughn would have wanted his money back, right?”
“Absolutely. No way was he setting a bad precedent by letting your father skate.”
“So maybe Vaughn arranged the arson. My dad would collect the insurance money and Vaughn would get paid. Maybe Jess Milford found out Vaughn was involved, tried to blackmail him, and Vaughn killed him. Or more likely, had someone else kill him.”
“What about your dad? You still think Vaughn is the man behind his murder?”
“My father used the money he borrowed to live the high life he was accustomed to. He didn’t pay it all back, so Vaughn took care of him, just like Milford.”
Cassidy tried to convince herself, but doubt must have shown in her face.
“You still don’t believe it.” Beau released a sigh of frustration.
Cassidy took a sip of her Coke and set it back down on the table. “Something’s off. I can feel it. I’m just not sure what it is.”
“Maybe, but I know one thing. Two men are dead. If Vaughn was behind the arson, there’s a good chance both of the murder victims had some kind of run-in with him.”
“You realize, if Vaughn’s behind the murders and you keep pursuing this, you’re taking a very big risk.”
“I’m going to find the man who killed my father. If it’s Vaughn—”
“I’m not suggesting we quit, just warning you of the danger.”
Beau scowled. “Okay, I get it. We need to be careful. You still in?”
“Of course. I do this for a living, Beau.”
“All right, then we’re going to need to step up our game.”
A faint shiver ran through her as she thought of the man she had met at Equity Advance. There was something disturbing about Malcolm Vaughn, something in his eyes. It was the look of a predator, one who relentlessly pursued its prey.
She glanced over at Beau. “I keep thinking about what Dooley Tate said.”
One of his black eyebrows went up. “Tate said favors are as valuable as money. It’s crossed my mind, too.”
“Your father was a senator. He traded in favors. That’s how political deals are made. Surely he could have come up with something Vaughn wanted in exchange for the rest of the money he owed. If he did, Vaughn would have had no reason to kill him.”
Beau took a swallow of his Coke. “So how do we find out?”
Cassidy tapped her pen on the yellow pad. “I need to call Jase. He always has an ear to the ground. Maybe he’s heard a rumor, something Vaughn might be involved in that will help us figure things out.”
The thin scar along Beau’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like it. I don’t want you in debt to Maddox.”
“You don’t have to worry. It’s quid pro quo. Sometimes I help him. Sometimes he helps me. Sometimes we work together.”
“I still don’t like it.”
Cassidy eyed him with speculation. Was that jealousy she heard in his voice? Surely not. “You just don’t like Jase. You’re afraid he’ll poach on your territory.”
Beau’s gaze ran over her, as blue as the tip of a flame and just as hot. Desire clenched the muscles across her belly.
“Do I need to worry?” he asked.
“About Jase? No.”
He frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
Cassidy just smiled. “It means you still owe me that dinner and tonight would be a good time.”
Beau relaxed. “Dinner it is. It’s getting late. We’ll put this aside for now and go get something to eat.”
“First I want to shower and change.” And Cassidy knew exactly what to wear.