Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“ I ’ve gone over the contracts, West. You owe Lynne a significant amount unless you can produce something to negate this debt. The reasoning behind it all still eludes me.” Seated in West’s office, Reilly glared at him. “You have told people she killed the McKeegan bull, but that’s plain bull. Pun intended. Lynne wasn’t on the property the day the bull died. You were. If anyone killed that bull, it was you. I have another question about the bull situation. Why didn't you contact the authorities to investigate?”
Calm as West appeared, his stark paleness spoke volumes.
“That would have been McKenna’s call. Ask him, he’s your brother. Why are you troubling me with this? If you’ll excuse me.” West stood.
“Sit down. I’m just getting started. You’d be wise to hire a lawyer, as I intend to pursue legal action.” He pushed a yellow envelope across the desk. “Here are the preliminary figures for what you owe Lynne for selling the practice out from under her. There will be more as we go over her expenses caused by your sale.”
West ignored the envelope, staring at it as though it was a snake.
“That’s your copy to go over before our next meeting,” said Reilly. “I’ll need any paperwork you have regarding that dead bull. Necropsy for cause of death, disposal method and invoice and so on.” He stood, adjusted his jacket, collected his briefcase, and promptly exited the clinic without offering a handshake.
Once he stepped outside, Gus waved him over to The Morning Glory Café. Walking quickly across the street, he joined the half owner of the café.
“Good morning, Gus. Nice day.”
“Sure is. The sun is shining and we’re alive. Had yourself a talk with West, I see. He’s a sneaky one. Full of himself, if you ask me. What he did to Lynne was shameful. He drove her out of town. I heard he gave her a bad job reference.” Gus shook his head. “How is she? I heard you two were together at the tavern last night.” A knowing grin stretched across his face.
Reilly smiled back. Half of his time with Lynne had been spent in the café. “She is just fine and back on her feet. I’m trying to help her with a few legal issues. I thought the clinic closed down.”
“Let’s get some coffee.” Gus opened the door, and instead of ringing, the bell thunked , just as it had since Reilly could recall.
They sat at a table, and Ruby Lou hurried over with two cups of coffee. “My, you are handsome in that suit, Reilly. It’s great to have you home. How long are you planning to stay?”
“Ruby Lou, are you writing a book about him? He just got here. Let’s not frighten him off with any of your plans,” Gus admonished.
“Plans?” asked Reilly.
“She’s been matchmaking again. Her last attempt had the man stalking the woman.”
Ruby Lou gave Gus a withering look.
“If you need anything, let me know.” She hurried off.
“A stalker?”
“You can ask your sister-in-law Aurora about that mishap.” He shook his head then changed the subject. “So, about the clinic. I was cooking the day West told Lynne the clinic was closed. He told her she was fired. Not two days later, he opened the clinic again. I didn’t know how to get a hold of Lynne. As far as I’m concerned, West is a crook! Lynne is such a nice girl. You know you could do worse. You were always a happy couple.”
“I can hear you, Gus! Sounds like matchmaking to me!” Ruby Lou gave him a frosty look before she turned her back on him.
Both men held in their laughter.
“I’m Lynne’s lawyer,” Reilly told Gus in a low voice, “and if you hear anything, please call me. This situation is sketchy, and it’s difficult to find the starting point.”
“Take care, Reilly,” Gus said as both men stood.
“Come again soon and bring that pretty gal named Lynne with you!” Ruby Lou called out as he opened the door.
“Spike, you should have seen This and That. They were as happy as can be. She ran a hand down his leg; the joint looked good. “I’m going to let you out in the pasture tomorrow.”
She stood up and stretched her back just as the potbellied pig snorted. “Tuni, I hear you. I’ll be there in a minute.”
If not for her animals, she’d go crazy. She’d had a restless night and slept fitfully. It was overwhelming trying to consider everything. Getting a trailer for herself had been a wise move, though. Now she had a place to live without crowding Reilly.
“Here Tuni, come eat.” The miniature horse snuffled her arm. “Yes, Mini, it’s your turn. But first you need brushing.”
All night long, she berated herself for longing for his kiss. He claimed not to have sent his mother, yet she had seemingly been privy to their plans to marry in a year. She’d known quite a bit about their plans, actually.
Wiping her hands on her jeans, she remembered how his mother had told her she wasn’t fit for the McKeegan name. It was quite possible that realization would have hit her before they married. Especially since the thought of living close to Mrs. McKeegan had often given her pause. Reilly had always appeared to remain unaware of the continuous barbs and the contemptuous glances she received from his mother.
Her grandfather had been so welcoming toward Reilly. Maybe things had worked out for the best after all. Her life would have been lived in constant discomfort in his mother’s shadow.
Her musing drifted toward the accusations David West had made about a McKeegan bull. There had to be a way to clear her name.
“Mini, I need to locate where they disposed of the bull. I can’t just sit here knowing West has my clinic open. That man stole from me.” Maybe Reilly could help her figure things out. Mini shook her head as Lynne pulled the brush along her shoulder. “No, I am not the type of woman who needs saving by a man.” The horse snorted. “You’re right, Mini, I need to go to town. I have no reason to hide.”
After she cleaned herself up, she picked up her helmet and put it on. Where to start? It didn’t matter; she just needed to get into town. Mounting her bike, she started it then sped down the driveway and headed toward town. The bank made the most sense. West remained uncooperative; however, the bank was obligated to explain to her West's acquisition of her family ranch.
Her anger was far beyond simply hot under the collar. She drove through town and parked in front of the bank. Tyrone Savings and Loan. The appropriate name would be Tyrone, the Stealers of Property. She took a few breaths and waited until she was calm. She'd play dumb and ask for a copy of the paperwork. Perhaps a smile would do the trick—if she could muster one.
She opened the door and went inside, her heart pounding with apprehension. With its shiny marble floors and long velvet drapes, the building was truly beautiful. And intimidating.
Tellers conducted their business from mahogany workstations consistent with the rest of the wood. Who had built this? It was strangely posh and ornate for such a small town.
“How can I help you?” a thin, tall man inquired.
“I need a copy of a loan taken on a mortgage. It’s for the Walsh property. The IRS wants to be sure they got their money.” She smiled, pleased with her clever reasoning.
“I’m not sure if that can be handled here.”
“Miss Walsh, it’s wonderful seeing you again,” Carl Rodgers, the bank president, boomed as he approached.
“Yes, well, I need copies some papers of my grandfather’s.”
“Please come to my office.” He entered a door off to the side, and she trailed behind.
With a gesture, he indicated she should sit, which she did.
“Now, what is this about your grandfather?”
“I need access to the mortgage on the property, the loan taken out and any payments made. The IRS is claiming I made money on the sale of the property, but from what I remember, my grandfather never paid the loan in full. The bank took the property.”
Frowning, Carl rested his elbows on his massive desk. He bent forward. “We're sorry, but we dispose of papers after a certain number of years.”
She leaned forward. “Legally, you must keep them on the property for seven years. I’m sure you could print out the documents for me. We aren’t in the 90s anymore. Banks are progressive. They must be to meet government regulations.”
“It’ll take some time to research and find the information you’re looking for.” Leaning back, he smiled.
“Maybe if we were talking about many years past, but my grandfather died three years ago. I'm not sure what the issue is.” Darn, she’d forgotten to play stupid. “I'll wait while you get that information printed. Or…my lawyer can visit you, if you prefer.”
“From where does this attorney hail? There are no representatives from Tyrone acting on your behalf. I would have known.”
“Why is that?” She stared at him.
“Why is what?”
He was stalling. “Expect a visit from Reilly McKeegan. However, he’ll probably need more information than I do.”
Carl laughed. “Honey, that ship sailed long ago. Don't expect assistance from the McKeegans; Reilly wouldn't represent someone as insignificant as you. You’re really a nobody. He has a large practice based in Billings.”
“Yes, he does.” She stood and continued to stare at him. “Good day, Carl.” Head held high, she left. It might be a beautiful building, but something sure did stink in it.