Page 27 of Lie for a Million

Jasmine stood in the hallway, frozen in shock. Drug money laundering? What was her mother talking about? And it almost sounded as if the hit man she and Divino hired had killed Frank after all.

“So far, the feds can’t prove a thing,” Divino said. “But Nick Bellingham’s making me nervous—him and that new man, Rafferty. If they dig deep enough—”

“Don’t you dare touch Sam Rafferty. I’ve chosen him to be the father of my blue-eyed grandchildren.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Divino said. “But if it comes down to him or me—”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Madeleine said. “All this doom and gloom is threatening to spoil my appetite. How about refilling my glass with more of that good pinot noir?”

As the conversation faded, Jasmine slipped back down the hall to her room. With the door closed behind her, she leaned against it, shaking. She needed to warn Sam about what she’d overheard. But what if that warning drew him into danger? Divino was capable of killing anyone he believed to be a threat. That included Sam’s boss, Nick Bellingham—and maybe Sam. He was also capable of lying about the failed hit on Jasmine’s father.

There was more at stake here. If Jasmine were to share what she’d heard, she’d be putting her mother in danger of arrest and worse. Louis Divino appeared to love Madeleine, but if he suspected she might use what she knew to bargain for immunity, he was capable of silencing her.

And if he were to discover how much Jasmine knew about him, Madeline wouldn’t be the only one silenced.

The burner phone she’d bought lay on the desk, next to her laptop. She stared at it, torn by the urge to call Sam and tell him everything.

But that wasn’t going to happen. There was no step she could take without endangering someone she loved—or herself. All she could do was wait.

* * *

Roper was working a buckskin mare in the arena when the black Escalade, with Mariah at the wheel, rolled through the front gate and pulled up to the front porch. Pausing the horse, he watched Lila climb out of the passenger side and mount the steps. She was walking on her own, but her left arm was in a sling. Probably a dislocated shoulder that had been set. Relief swept over him as she vanished into the house. She’d been lucky. The battling stallions could have killed her with a blow.

He checked the impulse to hand off the mare and go rushing after Lila. That would be presumptuous. Even questioning Mariah would be out of line. He would be smart to focus on his job and wait for Lila to come out to him.

Sunset was streaking the sky by the time Roper finished with the lineup of horses he was training. There’d been no sign of Lila. Was she all right? Had some trouble kept her away from the arena? Or had she simply decided to see less of him?

Roper cursed himself for caring. She was his boss, that was the only certainty. Despite what had happened between them, he had no business mooning over her like a lovestruck teenager.

One in a Million was settled in his stall after a day outdoors. Roper made sure the big roan was comfortable. Then he found Fire Dance, cross-tied and saddled him, wrapped his legs, and led him into the arena. The hired help had left for the day. Roper was alone with the horse he’d chosen to carry him to the million-dollar prize.

The chestnut stallion quivered and snorted, probably recognizing the place where he’d been attacked that morning. Roper spent a few moments stroking him and murmuring soft words of comfort.

“It’s all right, boy. You’re safe. You’ll be fine.”

He swung into the saddle and felt the tension in the horse’s body. Fire Dance was well trained, but he’d lost trust in the man on his back. Roper understood. The young stallion had been doing his job, behaving as he’d been taught, when the attack struck out of nowhere. And his rider hadn’t kept it from happening. Now, in the same place with the same rider, how could he not be scared?

Fire Dance had no visible injuries, but he was probably sore. Lila had talked about installing a water therapy feature in the new training facility she wanted to build. That would have been helpful now. But it was a long way from happening.

Roper started the stallion at an easy walk, testing his gait for any sign of pain. Little by little he eased the horse into the performance routine, taking it slow. Physically, Fire Dance seemed fine. But he was clearly nervous, hesitating with each move, as if he expected his angry rival to come charging into the arena again. Bringing back the spooked horse’s confidence was going to take time—or a miracle.

By the time Roper had finished working the stallion, rubbed him down, and put him away, it was dark outside. Looking toward the house, he could see the light on in Lila’s room. It was time to go home.

Tired and hungry after the long day, he drove through the gate and parked at the house. The horse trailer and other road vehicles were missing, gone off to another rodeo. The summer season was known as Cowboy Christmas because of so many chances to win prize money. Stetson and

Chance, at least, would be back on the circuit. Cheyenne had said she wanted to quit, but her horse, Jezebel, was gone from the corral, so she may have changed her mind. The terms of Rowdy’s bail wouldn’t allow him to travel, so he’d be missing out. Roper could only hope his brother was behaving himself.

The dog crossed the porch to greet Roper as he mounted the steps. He scratched the shaggy ears. Through the screen door he could smell beef stew, warming over from last night.

The kitchen table was set with four places. Kirby sat in his usual spot, sipping from his stained coffee cup. Rachel stood by the stove, stirring the stew. Tonight Roper noticed a weariness about her, the sagging shoulders, the mouth pressed into a thin line. There was no sign of Rowdy.

“Your brother’s somewhere outside, Roper,” she said. “Go and fetch him. We’ll be eating in a few minutes.”

Roper walked back outside. He hadn’t seen Rowdy when he drove into the yard, but he found him by the paddock, leaning on the fence.

“Suppertime, brother,” Roper said. “Mom sent me to fetch you.”

Rowdy didn’t answer or even look around. Not a good sign.

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