Page 54 of Wyoming Tough

She went closer to him. “Words,” she said quietly. “It was all just words. I was set up…you know that. Mallory Kirk has a jealous girlfriend. She thought I was getting too close to him so she found a way to get me fired.”

“You should have made him prosecute you,” King returned hotly. “I’d have had that blonde wannabe tied up in knots on the witness stand.”

Witness stand. Jury. Her eyes narrowed. “You talked to Uncle Danny. He sold me out!”

He looked uncomfortable. “Danny didn’t say anything. He just made some odd comments and I got suspicious about why you suddenly left a job you told him you loved.”

“So you hired a private detective,” she said with resignation. “Listen, Dad, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to marry Daryl. Nobody knows me in Wyoming. Who cares what gossip goes around about why I left the ranch up there?”

“I care,” he said flatly. “You’re my child. You were accused of a crime. And now there’s another crime that they may try to blame you for.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, and her stomach flipped.

“A priceless jeweled egg was stolen from the house, and replaced with a cheap copy that went unnoticed until a few days ago,” King said icily. “If they thought you stole it in the first place, they may come after you and have you prosecuted now that it’s gone missing for real.”

She felt sick. “I saw Mallory Kirk going back toward the house with it, just after he told me to leave.”

“Yes, well, somebody took it soon afterward.”

“I’d already left Wyoming,” she protested.

“They could say you took it with you,” he returned. “They could say you let Kirk find it in your rucksack because you had the real one hidden. It was an unsettling confrontation. He could say that he didn’t notice it was a copy because of the emotional upset.”

She sat down on the arm of the sofa, her expression tense and worried.

“I’m not about to let my daughter be labeled a thief,” he said icily. “Your name is going to be cleared, and I don’t care who else gets hurt. People who steal should be caught, Morena. You should have made them call the law and prosecute you.”

“That’s what Joe Bascomb did,” she said bitterly. “And he was convicted of a murder, when he was innocent.”

“Was he?” King asked, with narrowed yes. “Danny thinks there may be more to that story than you’re aware of. He’s the one who called in private detectives in the first place, to check out your friend Bascomb because you asked him for help, to get the man an attorney. In the process, they learned about the theft of the jeweled egg.”

She felt even more terrible. Surely it couldn’t get any worse. Could it?

She took a long breath. “Okay, you’re right. But can it wait until after the production sale?” she asked gently. “Let’s not spoil it with a lot of legal challenges. Mom’s worked so hard.”

King grimaced. He knew how hard Shelby had worked. She was the heart of the outfit, in many ways. “All right,” he agreed after a minute. “That’s only a few days away. But afterward,” he added with ice in his tones, “we’re going to set things straight in Wyoming.”

She nodded. She wasn’t looking forward to it. Mallory Kirk was in for a huge surprise, and not one he was going to enjoy. Her father would have him for breakfast. She studied her parent while he talked to Daryl. Under other circumstances, he might have liked Mallory. They were very similar in many ways. And hadn’t her father been suspicious of Shelby and thought her an opportunist during their stormy relationship? He really didn’t have much room to talk. Not that she was going to say that out loud.

UNCLEDANNY AND HIS VIVACIOUSwife, Edie, came with their sons, and their housekeeper/cook, Safie, to stay during the production sale. Morie and Daryl took the kids riding and to movies to keep them occupied while the adults got everything organized for the sale.

The house was huge, and additions had been constructed while the kids were in school so that they had entertainment areas for their friends. There was an immense ballroom, an indoor swimming pool, a tennis court out back, the stables and a barn for King’s prize bulls. It was a lavish estate. Six Jaguars, two sedans, two convertibles and two antique sports cars graced the garage. Cort and Morie owned the convertibles, although it had taken a long time to convince King that they were as safe as most other cars.

THESATURDAY MORNINGthat kicked off the production sale came with a suddenness that Morie hadn’t anticipated. The small airport just south of the ranch was kept busy as corporate jets landed, refueled and took off again after depositing their passengers.

Morie was fascinated by the guest list. She watched famous people stroll around the premises with starstruck awe.

“Stop that,” Daryl teased, holding her hand. “You’ve seen them before.”

“Yes, on television,” she assured him. “Dad’s never gone whole hog like this for a production sale!”

“He’s making a statement,” Daryl said in an odd tone.

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

He sighed. “Never mind.” He grinned. “Race you to the sale barn!”

“I can’t,” she objected. “I have to help in the kitchen, making canapés. Even with all of us helping, including Aunt Edie and Safie and the caterers, it’s a pinch getting it done in time for the party tonight. While all the visiting cattlemen are drooling over Dad’s seed bulls, the women are grinding their teeth trying to provide enough food. And that doesn’t include the barbecue that’s going on in the tents for lunch,” she added, indicating the row of tents and the smokers that were going full tilt to provide barbecue. “At least the cowboys are handling that for us! Thank goodness we got old Rafe to come out of retirement long enough to make those famous Dutch-oven biscuits he’s famous for. Not to mention his beef barbecue.”

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