Winter Roses Part 15

CHAPTER TEN.

MINETTE RAYNOR was twenty-four. She was managing editor of the weekly Jacobsville Times, the newspaper of Jacobs County. Her mother had inherited the paper from Minette's grandfather, and she ran it until her death. After that, her father and stepmother ran it. He'd died three years previously. Minette had grown up knowing how to sell ads, write copy, set type and paste up copy in the composing room. It was easy for her to step into her parents' shoes and run the paper. She was tall, slender, dark-eyed and blond, with a scattering of freckles over her nose. Her hair was her most incredible a.s.set. It looked like a thick flow of pale gold that inched down her back almost to her waist. It was much longer than Ivy's.

From a deceased uncle, she'd inherited a ranch that raised steers for beef, and it was ramrodded by her late father's wrangler and two part-time cowboys who were students at the local community college. Her great-aunt Sarah lived with her and helped take care of Minette's half brother, Shane, who was eleven, and her half sister Julie, who was five. Minette's mother had died when she was ten, and her father had married Dawn Jenkies, a quiet librarian who adored him and Minette. Over their years together, she presented Dane with a son and a daughter, upon whom Minette doted. When Dawn died, and her father soon after of a heart attack, Minette was left to raise the children. It seemed to be a labor of love.

Hayes pulled up at her front steps, where she and the children were wielding paintbrushes, touching up the fading white of the door facing and wood trim. Minette, in jeans and a sweats.h.i.+rt, got up, glaring at Hayes.

He glared back. "I need to ask a favor."

She looked furious. "I don't owe you any favors, Sheriff Carson," she said icily.

"I know that. But I have to put Ivy someplace where she'll be safe. Drug dealers may be after her."

Minette's eyes narrowed. She seemed to be biting her tongue.

Carson just looked uncomfortable. "The county will pay for her upkeep," he said curtly. "It's only for a few days."

Minette looked worriedly at her siblings.

"I'm going to have one of my deputies stay here, too," he added. "If you don't mind."

"I always wanted to open a hotel," Minette told him irritably. But when she saw Ivy's consternation, she went to her and smiled. "I'm sorry. You may have noticed that the sheriff and I don't get along. But you're welcome to stay. Aunt Sarah would love the company. I'm at work most days until late." She looked at Hayes viciously. "When I'm not overdosing men, that is."

"Cut it out," he bit off, avoiding her eyes.

Ivy knew at once that Merrie York was out of luck where Hayes was concerned. Something powerful was at work between these two. And it wasn't business.

The little girl, Julie, walked over to Hayes and looked up at him. "Do you got any little kids?" she asked softly.

"Careful, baby," Minette said softly, eyeing Hayes. "Rattlesnakes bite."

He glared at her. She glared back.

He looked down at Julie, who was blond like her half sister. "No, I don't have any kids," he said a little stiffly.

The child c.o.c.ked her head at him. "That's very sad," she replied, sounding very grown up. "My sister says little kids are sweet." She frowned. "You don't look like a rattlesnake."

"Julie, would you get me a rag from the kitchen, please?" Minette asked her.

"Okay, Minette!" She ran up the steps and into the house.

"You're very welcome to stay with us," Minette told Ivy, her smile welcoming.

"I'll run you back to the boardinghouse to pack a bag," Hayes said.

Ivy hesitated. "Listen, are you sure this is necessary?"

"Mrs. Brown isn't going to be much protection if Rachel's boyfriend comes looking for you," he said.

She grimaced. "All right, then." She smiled at Minette. "I can cook," she said. "If you need help in the kitchen."

The other woman laughed. "Always. Aunt Sarah and I share kitchen duty, but neither of us is overly skilled. Still, we haven't poisoned anyone."

"Yet," Hayes enunciated coldly.

She stood up, eyes blazing. "Someday," she said slowly, "the truth is going to bite you in the neck! I didn't kill your brother. He killed himself. That's what you can't accept, isn't it, Hayes? You want a scapegoat...!"

"You bought the drug for him that he overdosed on!" Hayes shot back.

Minette stood erect, her face pale. "For the twentieth time, I never used drugs, or got drunk, or put a foot out of line in my life," she said proudly. "So how exactly do you think I'd know where to find illegal drugs in this town?"

He looked odd.

"Never mind," she continued. "I'm tired of beating a dead horse. Ivy, we'll get a room ready for you. The one thing we do have plenty of in this white elephant," she indicated the two-story Victorian house, "is room."

"Thanks," Ivy replied. "Hayes?"

He was staring at Minette, frowning. "What? Yes. We'll go now. Minette, I'd like to speak with Marsh."

"He's out in the barn, fixing a saddle."

Hayes took Ivy to the car, and he went to the barn. He was back in a couple of minutes. He got in the car and drove away.

Ivy didn't ask about his feud with the other woman, but she gathered that it had something to do with his brother's death. Everyone knew that Bobby Carson had died of a drug overdose three years earlier, just before Rachel went to New York. Why he thought Minette was responsible was curious. She was known locally for her hard stand on drug use and her support of antidrug programs in the schools.

"She's very nice," Ivy began.

Hayes didn't answer. "You'll be safe. Marsh will keep you safe. n.o.body would think of looking for you out there, but even if they did, you'd see them coming a mile away. Not that I think the boyfriend will come all the way down here, since he isn't sure you've got that journal. But it's best to be cautious." He glanced at her. "I still think Merrie and Stuart would have let you stay with them."

She didn't answer him, either.

The next day, she authorized Hayes to open the safe-deposit box in the Jacobsville bank, with Police Chief Cash Grier and DEA Agent Alexander Cobb as witnesses. He picked her up and brought her to the bank.

It was a haul. Rachel had names, locations, dates, quant.i.ties of drugs s.h.i.+pped and the point of origin for a huge cocaine s.h.i.+pment. Implicated in the drug trafficking were her boyfriend, a local Jacobsville resident and two men who sat on Jacobsville's city council two years earlier.

"This is great." Cash Grier spoke for the other men as he read through the doc.u.mentation. "This is enough evidence to shut down one of the biggest pipelines of illicit drugs in south Texas."

"We can certainly use it," Cobb agreed.

"Amen." Hayes smiled at Ivy. "Rachel made up for a lot with this," he said. "Regardless of her motive."

Ivy wondered about that motive. She didn't say it aloud, but she had a feeling that Rachel had been blackmailing somebody. She probably never expected to die, or to have played a big part in shutting down the drug trade in Jacobs County. It was the one n.o.ble act of Rachel's life.

It was decided that Ivy would stay at Minette's house. When she packed up her few things and told Mrs. Brown and Lita what was going on, they both tried to get her to stay.

"I have my father's old shotgun," Mrs. Brown said.

"I'm not afraid of drug dealers," Lita added.

"I know that, but it's going to take professionals to keep this from escalating," Ivy told them. "I don't want either of you in danger. Okay?"

They agreed, reluctantly.

Ivy left Rachel's ashes in her room for the time being. Once the fear of retribution from Rachel's boyfriend was past, she could take care of the funeral.

She was given a room next to Minette's, and she became part of the family overnight. Aunt Sarah, a tiny little woman with white hair, was a live wire. The children had sweet, loving natures. Minette had a wicked sense of humor.

"I'm surprised that Hayes would bring you here," she commented over steak and biscuits. "He really hates me."

"Maybe that's why," Ivy chuckled. "He seems to think I might be a target." She shook her head. "If anything happened to the kids," she added worriedly.

"Don't you worry," Minette a.s.sured her. "We have Marsh Bailey out in the bunkhouse. He was an IPSIC shooter. That's pistol compet.i.tion," she clarified. "He worked for the U.S. Marshal's Service, and he never misses. G.o.d help the outlaw who shows up here uninvited."

"I hope he won't," Ivy said. "But Rachel's boyfriend has more to lose than most people. He might figure out that I have the journal she left, and come after me."

"I don't think he's that stupid," Minette ventured, sipping coffee. Her soft eyes pinned Ivy's across the supper table. "Think about it. There's a journal floating around that has names and addresses and the potential to explode the local drug trade. You don't know who's got it or where it is, but you know you'll get blamed if the authorities find it. Would you walk into the arena, or would you run for your life?"

Ivy felt better. "You know," she said, "I think I'd run."

Minette smiled. "I think I would, too."

For the next two days, Ivy stayed with the Raynors. She got her ledgers from the boardinghouse and drove her little VW back to Minette's house. Hayes came by to check on her and mentioned that they'd heard nothing from their informants about the NewYork connection to the drug trade. However, he did say that the baker had been arrested and charged with drug trafficking. Julie Merrill was still on the loose, however, and n.o.body, including her father, had any idea where she'd gone.

"We did phone the Brooklyn precinct that worked your sister's death," he added. "It seems that her boyfriend was involved in an accident yesterday. He's in the hospital and not expected to live."

"What happened to him?" she exclaimed.

"It seems he walked into an elevator shaft in his own apartment building," Hayes told her. "There were two eyewitnesses. They have mob ties, of course. The word on the street is that Smith was trying to trespa.s.s on another drug dealer's territory."

"Tough," Ivy said, without any real regret. The man who'd helped Rachel feed her habit had gone the same way she had. It was a fitting sort of end. She said so.

"I have to agree."

"Then, do you think I could go home?" she ventured.

He hesitated. "I can't stop you. Smith won't be a problem, but there are some shadowy members of the drug cartel still on the loose. You won't know who they are."

"I have an answer to that," she replied.

"What?"

"Let Minette do a story about the Jacobsville drug link and say that all Rachel's records are now in the hands of law enforcement," she suggested. "That should put a kink in their operation--and keep them out of Jacobsville."

He began to smile. "I like the way you think. Okay. I'll talk to her about it."

"And I can go home? I still have Rachel's funeral to arrange."

He nodded. "Go ahead. If you need me, you know where I am."

"Yes, I do. Thanks, Hayes."

"No problem."

She did go back to the boardinghouse, but she was nervous, even under the circ.u.mstances. She didn't want to endanger Mrs. Brown and Lita. On the other hand, she hadn't felt right about endangering Minette's young siblings. If only Stuart was still speaking to her. She agonized over his defection to the pretty debutante. He'd just dropped Ivy like a rock, and when she needed him most. If she only knew why!

The next day, she drove out to the cemetery, where the funeral home director and his a.s.sistant were waiting. The trees were all bare. It was a gray day. It was misting rain as well. It looked such a forlorn place with the cold wind whipping Ivy's hair around.

A small grave had been dug next to her father's, to receive Rachel's urn. There wasn't anyone there except herself. She had thought of putting the obituary notice in the paper, but Rachel had left plenty of enemies in Jacobsville, and few friends.

She was wearing a long gray dress with an equally long tweed coat. The wind was crisp and cruel. She'd been awake half the night thinking about Stuart and wondering what she'd done to make him stay away. They'd been so close in NewYork. Now, he didn't seem to remember her at all. At least when he'd disliked her, she'd seen him from time to time. She ached to be with him. Even just the sight of him at a distance would feed her hungry heart. But apparently that wasn't going to happen.

The wind blew coldly around her as she stared at the bronze urn that contained the only human remains of her sister. She'd never felt so alone.

The funeral director's a.s.sistant, who was also a lay minister, said the words over Rachel's ashes. As Ivy listened, she was sorry that her sister's life had been so wasted, so full of selfish greed. If only Rachel had been different. If only she'd cared about Ivy. She closed her eyes as the prayer ended, hoping that it had helped the older woman in her path to the other side of life.

When she looked up, she was astonished, delighted, shocked to see Stuart York striding toward her. He wasn't smiling. His wide-brimmed dress hat was pulled down low over his eyes. He was dressed in city clothes, a gray suit that made him look distinguished. He paused at the graveside and looked down at Ivy, who couldn't hide her delight, or her wounds.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said curtly. "I couldn't find out what time you were having the service. If I'd known, Merrie would have come down, too."

"I didn't think anyone would come," she said simply.

His eyes narrowed. "You didn't think, period," he said shortly. His big hand caught her small one and held it tight. She looked up at him, feeling suddenly safe and confident, and tears misted her eyes.

The funeral home director gave Ivy his condolences, along with the lay minister, and then beckoned to the workman to put the urn in its resting place.

"Do you want to stay for this?" Stuart asked.

She nodded. "It's such a sad way to die," she said.

His hand tightened. He didn't say anything.

He walked with her to her vehicle, and his eyes said what he thought of it. "You'd be safer riding a one-wheeled bicycle," he said flatly.

"It doesn't look like much," she agreed, "but it does run. Mostly."

He turned her to him, taking her gently by the shoulders. "I saw you ride off with Hayes Carson the morning after we got in," he said coldly. "You were with him again the next day."

"Yes," she said, surprised, "because he and Chief Grier..."

"...had to oversee the opening of the safe-deposit box," he finished for her, dark eyes flickering. "You could have called and told me that, Ivy."