Page 18 of Lie for a Million

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her words followed Roper as he strode away. He’d do well to remind himself that she was in charge. But in the weeks ahead, he’d be walking a tightrope between the need to meet her expectations and his burning desire to win.

* * *

Sitting on the bed in her rented room at the Blue Rose, Crystal keyed the doctor’s number on her phone, then quickly cancelled the call. Her hands trembled as she put down the phone.

She wasn’t ready for the test. She was too scared. What if the baby turned out to be Judd’s? All her hopes, all her plans for a better life would be gone—and she would be faced with the prospect of an unwanted pregnancy.

Lighting a cigarette, she took a long, languid drag. Smoking was bad for the baby, but she needed something to calm her nerves.

If only she could find out about the baby’s father before going to Lila’s doctor for the test. As things stood, Lila would get the test results first. Then she would make the follow-up call to Crystal. Crystal would be at her mercy—the bitch could even lie to her if she chose not to deal with Frank’s baby and its mother.

Of course, Crystal could go to another doctor first. But because she had no insurance, the test would cost more than she could afford.

After tamping out the cigarette in an empty plastic soda cup, she did a search on her phone. She found several labs in Abilene that advertised walk-in DNA testing. But the price was still too high.

Then she remembered something. Last year, a cocktail waitress named Monique had a paternity test done on her unborn baby. Single and uninsured, she could not have paid for a regular test. She had to know somebody or know of a place to get it done cheap.

Monique was still working the night shift at the saloon. With luck, she’d be there tonight, willing and able to give Crystal the information she needed.

It felt good to have a plan in mind. Still thinking about the test, Crystal swung off the bed, walked into the bathroom, and started her makeup ritual. Besides her own blood, the test would require a DNA sample from the possible father. She had nothing from Frank, but that was all right. Judd had left plenty of DNA in his car—beer cans, cigarette butts, soiled napkins, tissues, and more. Surely she could find something that would work. If Judd’s sample came up negative for a match, that would mean the baby was Frank’s. Simple.

So why did she feel so nervous?

Dressed in her hostess outfit of tight jeans, a fitted black tee, and high-heeled boots, she checked the time on her phone. She was already late for her afternoon shift at Jackalope’s. Picking up her purse and keys, she strode outside to the junk heap that passed as a car.

* * *

Sam was waiting when the saloon opened. Taking a booth, he ordered a Michelob and settled back into the shadows. A few customers wandered in to sit at the bar, where an elderly bartender was setting up drinks. Country music blared over speakers mounted above the bar. So far, there was no sign of the hostess Sam had come to meet. He sipped his beer and waited.

Moments later, she arrived, rushing in through the back entrance. Her high-heeled boots clicked across the wooden floor. Sam recognized her at once from the photos he’d seen and from Lila’s description. Despite her overdone makeup, she was even prettier than he’d expected. Sam could understand how a man such as Frank—past his prime and fighting to hold on to his youthful virility—might become infatuated with her. But was this beautiful young woman an innocent victim or a predator, capable of extortion and possibly murder?

Now, while the place was quiet, would be the best time to question her. Sam slid out of the booth. Displaying his badge, he walked over to where she stood. “Miss Carter, I’m Agent Rafferty, FBI,” he said, letting the music cover his voice. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

Her eyes widened like a startled animal’s. “Am I in some kind of trouble?” she asked.

“No. I just need to verify some information. Can you sit with me for a few minutes?”

She glanced around the room. “Just for a few minutes,” she said. “I’m on the clock.”

“Understood. I won’t keep you long.” He motioned her toward a seat in the booth.

* * *

Crystal faced the FBI agent across the table. He was a good-looking man with movie star features and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. But something in his unsmiling manner set off alarms in her head. Maybe Judd had said something to get her in trouble.

“What’s this about?” she asked him.

“I’m investigating the murder of Frank Culhane,” he said. “I understand you knew him.”

The dread inside her chilled and darkened. So this wasn’t about Judd. It was worse. “But didn’t you find the man’s killer?” she asked. “That’s what I heard.”

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “It turned out we were mistaken. I asked you a question, Miss Carter.”

Crystal sighed. “All right, yes, I knew Frank,” she said. “He came in here sometimes. He seemed lonely. We were friends.”

“Anything else? According to Lila Culhane, you were more than friends. In fact, you told her that you were pregnant with Frank’s baby. Is there any truth to that?”

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