Capter Three
CHAPTER THREE
“Dammit,” Portia exclaimed, flopping into the heavily cushioned couch. “Tell me the truth, William. Will this go away quietly, or will my name be in all the papers again?”
“If you didn’t insist on—”
“Please, no lectures!”
“Then stop giving me reasons for them,” he retorted. “Whatever this cowboy comes back with just accept it and move on. The last thing you need is those videos going public. We’ll agree to his terms—whatever they are— if he promises to destroy them.”
“Okay, okay, you’re right, I just hope it isn’t anything crazy. I’m going into the gym. I need to work off all this nervous energy.”
“Keep your phone on. I’ll let you know when I hear something.”
As she rose to her feet and marched from the room, William’s eyes followed her. He’d always thought she had a great figure, and while she worked hard at keeping it that way, he worked hard at keeping any admirers at a distance.
She would soon be his.
All of her.
He would own her luscious body, and more importantly, control her fortune.
When she’d started talking about a country home in a small town called Smoky Hill, he’d quickly encouraged her, even finding her an architect. Though one of her longtime friends, Helen Rutherford, had married a local cowboy and would doubtless take up some of her time, Portia would still be away from her busy social circle. Most especially the eager young men chasing after her. Now with the house finished and Portia settled in, it was time to put his wicked plan into action.
A conniving smile curled his lips.
It would start with a spiked cocktail.
But as he began to imagine the scene his phone rang, breaking into his wicked thoughts. Snatching it from his pocket and seeing the sheriff’s number he hastily accepted the call.
“Sheriff Cooper, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I hope it’s good news.”
“I was able to reach the D.A. and we’ve had a meeting of the minds. A hefty fine and citations, but—”
“Great. What about the cowboy?”
“I was just about to tell you.”
“Apologies, Sheriff. I’m just anxious to get this behind us.”
“Your client has to meet with Devlin Hatfield tomorrow mornin’ at his ranch at ten o’clock.”
“I don’t understand. For what reason?”
“Mr. Hatfield wishes to tell her himself, but if you don’t agree I’ll need to get back to the D.A. right away. He’ll have to revisit the case and sentencing.”
“Can you at least tell me why this cowboy wants to see her?”
“He’ll make her an offer. It’s in conjunction with the D.A. and with his approval. Considerin’ the circumstances it’s perfectly reasonable. In fact, I’d call it generous. But, ultimately it’s up to you and your client.”
“I’ll discuss this with her and get back to you.”
“The offer is off the table at 5 p.m.”
“Not a problem. Thank you, Sheriff.”
* * *
Devlin had just said goodbye to one of his riders and was heading back into the barn when he saw the sheriff marching towards him.
“I take it you’ve made contact,” Devlin declared. “What did they say?”
“The lawyer was a bit surprised, but I’m fairly certain Miss Peyton will be here in the mornin’.”
“Thanks for workin’ with me on this, Sheriff.”
“Hey, I think your idea is just what this girl needs. But it’s a good thing the D.A.’s my cousin and we think the same way. He could’ve hit her with all kinds of charges. But I’d best get back on the road. I’ll let you know as soon as I—speak of the devil,” he exclaimed as his phone signaled a text. “William Buckley and Portia Peyton have agreed. She’ll be here in the mornin’.”
“What’s this lawyer like?”
“Slick. Hopefully it’ll rain overnight and he’ll get mud on his shoes in the mornin’.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Devlin said with a chuckle.
“You’ll feel the same once you’ve met him. One thing’s for sure, I wouldn’t trust him, not for a minute.”
“What about Portia?”
“She’s just your typical spoiled rich girl. I can’t imagine why she wanted to move out here. Well, like I was sayin’, I’d better get back on the road. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As the sheriff climbed into his cruiser, Devlin called to his dogs, Jethro and Jezebel. They were big and loud and he adored them. He’d found them when he’d first started renovating the ranch. They’d just been puppies, and he’d assumed they’d been abandoned by the previous owners. The thought had sickened him, and he’d showered them with affection.
“Hey, you two. Have you been up to no good?”
Jezebel barked, and Jethro dropped a stick at Devlin’s feet, then stared up at him expectantly.
“Just once,” he said with a grin, picking it up.
After hurling it in the air, he watched the dogs race after it, then strode back to the barn. But as he walked in he lifted out his phone and played back the video of the dark-haired beauty.
As she’d stopped her SUV, he suddenly noticed she hadn’t immediately reached for her bag and make up. For a brief moment it appeared she’d wiped tears from her cheeks.