Chapter 9 #3
He set the glass down with a thump. “What are you getting at?”
“It’s more a case of what are you trying to pull?
Any unemployed, thirty-year-old man should not be spending in excess of five thousand dollars a month.
Therefore, I am going to do you a favor.
As of Monday, you will report to Princeton Hamilton in the legal department of Ruban Enterprises.
You have a law degree. You’re going to put it to work. ”
Miles froze. An angry flush began to spread from his neck, upward. “You bitch! You can’t run my life.”
Casey shrugged. “You’re right. But I’m running Ruban Enterprises, aren’t I? I covered this hot check, but I won’t do it again. Also, there will be no more instant deposits into your account, because as of the end of this month, it will be closed. No more free rides, Miles.”
Miles was so angry he couldn’t form a complete sentence. His hands were shaking as he yanked the towel from around his neck and started toward her.
The urge to run was overwhelming, but Casey stood her ground as he shoved his way into her space and thrust a finger up against her nose.
“Don’t let your power go to your head, sister dear. Someone might just have to knock you off that pedestal for your own damned good.”
The anger on Miles’s face was impossible to ignore and the knowledge that their relationship had come to this made her sick to her stomach. It hurt to know she was still the outcast when it came to family love. She reached out to him.
“I’m not trying to play God, Miles. You’re my brother. I care for you very much, but don’t you see? You’re wasting the best years of your life,.”
He slapped her hand away and then grabbed her by the arm, yanking her sharply until she came close to crying aloud.
“You’re going to be sorry for this,” he said softly. “You’re going to be very, very sorry.”
He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Casey reeling from the venom in his voice.
But his triumphant exit ended four steps outside the library door.
Ryder had him by the arm and shoved up against the wall before he had time to call out for help.
Miles had seen plenty of angry men in his life, but he’d never been afraid until now.
Ryder slammed his hand in the middle of Miles’s chest, pinning him in place. “You son of a bitch. If I ever hear you talk to your sister again like that, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
“It’s none of your business,” Miles said, and felt shame that his voice was shaking.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Whether any of you like it or not, she’s my wife. What happens to her is my business. And I’m telling you now, so you’ll be forewarned, if anything ever happens to Casey, I’m coming after you first.”
So great was his fear that if Ryder hadn’t been holding him up; Miles would have been on the floor.
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said,” Ryder replied softly. “You better hope to God she doesn’t have any enemies, because from this day forward, I hold you responsible for her welfare.”
Miles’s eyes bulged. “I would never wish Casey any real harm. I was just mad, that’s all. Hell’s fire, man, she’s my sister.”
“Then start acting like her brother.”
Miles went limp as all the anger slid out of his heart. Truth hurt. “Let me go.”
Ryder didn’t move—didn’t speak—and didn’t turn him loose.
Miles saw himself mirrored in Ryder’s eyes and didn’t like what he saw.
“I didn’t mean what I said to her. And I suppose in a way she’s right.”
Ryder turned him loose, but refused to move back. “Remember what I said. She hurts—you bleed.”
Miles took off down the hall as if the devil were at his heels. By the time he got back to the pool, he’d convinced himself that putting his education to work was not only going to happen, but that it could have its benefits.
Ryder watched Miles until he was out of the house, and then stepped inside the library. Casey was at the window, staring out onto the lawn overlooking the back of the estate.
“Casey?”
She spun, and Ryder wished he’d given in to the urge and punched Miles right in the face before they’d had their little talk. She looked so hurt. So lost. So alone.
“I heard some of what you said to Miles.”
Ryder could tell there was something serious on her mind. He waited for her to continue.
“I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I am forever grateful for your presence in my life.”
He wanted to hold her. He settled for a brief smile instead. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he drawled. “I’d come near saying that I’m the lucky one. Besides, we Justice men don’t take kindly to anyone messing with our women.”
Casey swallowed a sigh. If only she was his woman in the ways that counted. “So, are you telling me that there’s more than one of you that’s been turned loose on the world out there?”
The smile slid off his face and she knew she’d said the wrong thing. “I’m not who matters,” he said shortly. “I don’t think Miles will give you any more trouble, but if he does, you know where I’ll be.”
He walked out and she had the strangest sensation that he’d just walked out of her life, rather than out of the room. In fact, the thought was so strong that she actually followed him through the house, then stood in the doorway and watched until he entered their apartment.
What did I say? What was it that turned him off and sent him running?
But there were no answers for Casey, at least not today.
However, when the mailman drove away from the Justice ranch outside of Dallas, he gave Royal Justice a clue to solving a mystery that had been worrying him and his brother, Roman, for months.
* * *
“Daddy, Daddy, I bwought you da mail.”
Ignoring the trail of letters and papers she was stringing as she ran, Royal Justice swung his three-year-old daughter, Madeline, up in his arms and kissed her soundly.
“You sure did, honey. You’re getting to be such a big girl.”
“Gwinny helped,” Maddie said, pointing at the baby-sitter who was coming behind at a fast clip, picking up the pieces that Maddie had lost.
“Good for Gwinny,” Royal said. Gwinneth Anderson grinned, handed Royal Justice the rest of his mail, and took Maddie by the hand. “Come on, Scooter, it’s time to feed the pups.”
Maddie bolted, leaving Royal with a handful of letters and a smile on his face.
He dropped into the nearest chair and began going through the mail with a practiced eye, discarding the junk and setting aside the bills to be paid.
Every now and then one would be addressed to his brother, Ryder, and that one was tossed into a box with an accumulating stack that threatened to overflow.
It was all he knew to do. It was Roman who’d saved Ryder’s business from ruin.
Roman had taken over the charter service without batting an eye, claiming he could run his private investigation service and Ryder’s charter business in the same location. He hired two pilots, an accountant, and then dug in for the long haul, convinced that Ryder would be back when he was ready.
Privately, Royal was a lot less optimistic, but that was just the difference in their personalities, not a lesser belief in the brother who was missing.
He loved Ryder as much as Roman did and worried daily about his whereabouts, sometimes even wondering if he was still alive.
It had been so long and they hadn’t had a word.
He was down to the next-to-the-last letter in the lot, and he started to toss it in Ryder’s box when he looked at the return address. MasterCard. No big deal. Everyone has credit cards.
And then he realized what he was looking at and took a deep breath as he tore into the flap.
When he pulled out the itemized bill, he started to shake.
Someone had used Ryder’s card! Over the period of three weeks, someone had charged several hundred dollars’ worth of men’s clothing in Ryder’s name.
Royal was as scared as he’d ever been in his life.
Either Ryder was alive and well and buying up a storm, or someone was using his card.
The implications of how anyone might come by Ryder’s belongings was more than he could handle alone.
He bolted up from the chair and headed for the phone.
Moments later, a familiar voice growled in his ear.
“This is Justice Air and The Justice Way. State your business and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Royal groaned. That damned answering machine. When it beeped, he started talking.
“Roman, this is Royal. I just got a letter from—”
“It’s me,” Roman said.
“Well, hell,” Royal said. “Why didn’t you pick up the first time?”
“Wasn’t in the mood to chitchat,” he said shortly.
Royal cursed beneath his breath. That was so typically Roman. “The mail just came.”
Roman snorted indelicately. “Don’t tell me. You just won the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes.”
“Oh, shut the hell up,” Royal muttered. “I’m serious.”
“And I’m busy,” Roman said. “Unless my favorite niece has done something utterly charming that I need to know about, I don’t have time to—”
“Someone charged nearly a thousand dollars on Ryder’s MasterCard. The bill came today.”
Sarcasm was noticeably missing as Roman snapped, “Give me the dates. The store codes, anything that—no, wait! I’ve got a better idea. Fax me a copy of the bill.”
“Oh, hell,” Royal said. “You know I’m not good at making that damned thing work.”
“Then get Maddie to help. She knows how,” Roman said. “And do it now. If Ryder’s alive, I’ll find out soon enough. If someone is using his ID, they’re going to wish they’d never been born.”
“It’s on its way,” Royal said, and hung up the phone.
He turned, staring at the fax machine on the desk near the window, facing the fact that while he knew just about everything there was to know about ranching, the age of computers had him hanging in air.
It was humiliating to know that a three-year-old could do what he had yet to accomplish, but this concerned Ryder, and it was no time to get macho about a damned old machine.
He headed for the back door at a fast clip. “Hey, Maddie,” he yelled. “Come help me fax something to Uncle Roman.”