LITMIR.BIZ

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story than that, but he didn’t want to go into it.

      “Oh, is Frank married?”

      “He was. His wife was killed in a car wreck last year. He has twins, a boy and a girl, about Katy’s age.”

      “I’m so sorry to hear that. Is Frank okay?”

      J.J. shrugged. “Well as can be expected.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me go over to the courthouse and see how much longer Dwight will be. Stay here and visit with Mama till I get back.”

      J.J. rose and hurried from the shop. Damn! He could hardly wait to get hold of Dwight Murdock. He might skewer that knuckleheaded lawyer for dragging him into this mess. He didn’t want to see the look on Mary Beth’s face when she found out about her inheritance.

      MARY BETH PICKED UP their ice cream dishes and carried them to the counter. Katy, a paper napkin tucked under her chin, knelt on a stool watching Miss Nonie spooning sprinkles on an ice cream cone.

      Katy beamed as Miss Nonie handed her the cone. “Thank you very much.”

      “You’re welcome, precious.”

      Mary Beth raised her eyebrow. “A second one?”

      “Well, you see, I had sort of an ac-ci-dent with the first one. Miss Nonie said I shouldn’t worry. It happens to Janey and Jimmy all the time. We cleaned it up slick as a whistle. Isn’t that right, Miss Nonie?”

      “It is indeed. Slick as a whistle.” The gray-haired woman gave Mary Beth a wink.

      “Are Janey and Jimmy your grandchildren?” Mary Beth asked.

      “Frank’s twins. A pair of imps.”

      Mary Beth could tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she adored those imps. “Do you have any other grandchildren?”

      “Not a one,” Nonie said. “There’s not a single in-law among the whole bunch of Outlaws. Frank married, but his wife was killed in a car wreck, and he doesn’t seem much interested in looking for another.”

      “J.J. told me. A real tragedy. What about Cole?”

      “Divorced. No children. He’s a homicide detective in Houston.”

      “A homicide detective? And J.J.’s the sheriff. I love it. Did all the Outlaws end up in law enforcement?”

      “Every single one of them,” Nonie told her.

      Cole Younger Outlaw was the oldest son. Each of the Outlaw clan was named after an infamous character of the old West. J.J. was Jesse James, his older bother was Frank James; then came Sam Bass Outlaw and Belle Starr Outlaw.

      J.J.’s grandfather, old Judge John Outlaw, had said that having a memorable name was an asset in business and politics. He named his sons John Wesley “Wes” Hardin Outlaw, Jr. and Butch Cassidy Outlaw and aimed them toward lives of public service. His idea must have worked. Wes had served as sheriff of Naconiche for as long as Mary Beth could remember and his brother Butch was a state senator.

      Now, Nonie had told her, Frank was a judge, Sam was a Texas Ranger and Belle was an FBI agent. Holy!

      Mary Beth glanced over her shoulder and was happy to see J.J. returning from the courthouse with a tall, slightly stooped man with a fringe of white hair and a red bow tie. She had enjoyed visiting with Miss Nonie, and Katy had been enthralled with everything in the ice-cream parlor and gift shop, but she was physically and emotionally exhausted. She wanted to get settled and have that bath she’d been fantasizing about.

      Mr. Murdock, a courtly gentleman of the old school, apologized profusely for not being able to meet the bus. “The case simply couldn’t be rescheduled.”

      “I understand, sir. J.J. took good care of us.”

      J.J. grinned. “We aim to please. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going. Just got a call that Cletus Medford’s cows broke the fence and several head are blocking the highway. Duty calls.” He winked at Mary Beth. “I’ll check on you later.” He touched the brim of his hat, turned and trotted for his car.

      Mary Beth dragged her gaze from his retreating form, telling herself that she should be grateful for the duty that took him away. Try as she might, she couldn’t think kindly of those cows.

      “I have some papers for you to sign in my office,” Mr. Murdock said, “and I expect you’ll be wanting to inspect the property. Shall we do that tomorrow morning?”

      “Well, I suppose that the papers can wait until then, but I’d like to go on to the motel now. I’m without transportation. Could you drive us?”

      “Certainly. I would be delighted. I see you’ve injured your foot. Let me retrieve my automobile, and I’ll pick you up out front.”

      “Great. Our bags are over at the feed store.”

      The lawyer hurried out, and Mary Beth said her goodbyes to Miss Nonie. “I’d love to see Sheriff Wes. What is he doing now that he’s retired?”

      Nonie laughed. “Trying to keep from sticking his nose into J.J.’s affairs. He has a clock-repair business in the back of the store. He’s usually around since we live upstairs now, but he drove over to Cherokee an hour or so ago.”

      “You don’t live on the ranch anymore?”

      She shook her head. “With all our brood grown, the two of us just rattled around in that big house, so we divided up the ranch and gave it to the kids. We have a nice apartment upstairs that suits us fine. Oh, there’s Dwight.” Nonie gave Mary Beth and Katy another hug and waved to them as they went outside to the aging red Cadillac parked at the curb.

      After they retrieved their luggage from the feed store, Mr. Murdock drove out toward the edge of town—which was really only a quarter of a mile or so from the square.

      “I took it upon myself to make reservations for you at Ouida’s Bed-and-Breakfast,” the lawyer said. “I think you’ll find the place quite cozy. After you’ve had a chance to look over the property, I’m sure you’ll be anxious to rest and refresh yourself from your long trip.”

      Mary Beth frowned. Why were they pushing the B and B? “That’s very kind of you, but we were planning to stay at the motel.” She didn’t add that they couldn’t afford to stay at Ouida’s place.

      “The motel? But—but you can’t do that!”

      “Why not? I own it, don’t I?”

      “Yes, of course, but it simply isn’t suitable.”

      “Why not?”

      He pulled to a stop in front of a row of ramshackle buildings. “See for yourself.”

      Stunned by the sight, she couldn’t speak. What had once been a neat strip of rooms separated by individual carports, with flowers overflowing from window boxes, was now an uninhabitable mess. Most of the paint had peeled away and the little that was left was a grimy, unrecognizable color covered by layers of graffiti. Windows were broken out and boarded up. Weeds grew waist-high around the place. Even the For Sale sign in front looked dilapidated and forlorn.

      A sick feeling coiled in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to weep, but she wouldn’t—not yet, not here. She ground her teeth and tried to control the panic threatening to erupt.

      Katy hung over the back seat, gawking. “What’s that place, Mommy? Is it haunted?”

      “No, sugarplum, it’s not haunted. Mr. Murdock, is the restaurant this bad?”

      “Actually, no. It was in use until last week. A Mexican place. Quite good food, in fact. Unfortunately, the tenants skipped town owing two months rent and with six months left on their lease.”

      “Let’s look at it,” she said, her shoulders sagging. She didn’t hold out much hope that it would have a bathtub.

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