The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,3
I hung up before you answered.”
Sunny laughed. “When did that ever matter? Something going on?”
While it was true that she and Sunny shared a special bond identical twins often had, and she acknowledged their exceptional connectedness, she didn’t want to admit to any absurd woo-woo kind of stuff.
“Cass? What’s happened?”
“What makes you think anything happened?”
“Don’t try to snow me, sis. Give.”
“Well, I met a very interesting man today,” Cass said.
“Uh-uh. You meet interesting men all the time. You’re nervous. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Sunny, I… Promise you won’t laugh.”
“Cross my heart.”
“I think I saw him,” she whispered.
“Why are you whispering? And who did you see? The interesting man you met?”
“No. The Senator.” Cass heard a choking sound over the phone. “Are you laughing?”
“No, I was coughing. Where did you see him?”
“Maybe I didn’t see him,” Cass said, trying to convince herself as much as Sunny. “I’ve never seen him before, and it was just for a second. You’re the one who always claimed you saw and talked to him, even when we were little. I’m sure it was just my imagination. How are Ben and Jay?”
Ben McKee was a Texas Ranger and Sunny’s fiancé Jay was Ben’s five-year-old son.
“They’re fine. And don’t try to change the subject. Describe your glimpse of the Senator. When did it happen?”
Knowing Sunny wouldn’t give up until she heard the whole story, Cass told her when and where she’d seen the man. “He had gray hair and wore a dark gray suit with a red-and-blue tie.”
“Sounds like the Senator. Why didn’t you talk to him?”
“Exactly how does one talk to a ghost?”
GRIFFIN MITCHELL HUNG UP his coat and stripped off his tie. Damned meetings had gone on all day, and he was tired. He stepped onto the balcony of his hotel room and looked out over the lake, at the reflection of streetlights there. He thought of a pair of dark eyes and a sassy mouth on a beautiful woman—and not for the first time that day. He’d meant to drop by Chili Witches, the café she’d mentioned, but he hadn’t been able to break away. He’d known who she was, of course. He’d known a great deal about her and her sister, the ex-cop, who ran the family business now that their mother and aunt had retired. But nobody had prepared him for the sheer vibrancy of Cassidy Outlaw in the flesh.
Cass was an extraordinary lady, but then he was fond of tough Texas women. After all, his mother had been one until she moved to Long Island after she married Griff’s father. In fact, she still flew the Texas flag on the patio at their house. Occasionally, she used to turn the cook out of the kitchen and make chili or tacos or some other Tex-Mex concoctions. Griff hadn’t much liked the food, but he never knew if he didn’t care for the spicy fare in general or if his mother was simply a terrible cook.
In any event, he planned to have chili for lunch the following day. Maybe he could even talk Cass into going out with him Friday night or Saturday. He’d have to check the Austin American-Statesman he’d bought in the lobby, and find something interesting going on in town. What sort of entertainment would suit Cassidy’s taste? He couldn’t see either one of them enjoying the doings on Sixth Street—the clubs there were more for a younger crowd—but the dossier he had on her didn’t cover entertainment preferences. He’d have to wing it.
GRIFF LOOKED FOR CASS on the jogging trail the next morning, but didn’t see her. Probably because of her scraped knee. He was sorry about the injury. That part hadn’t been scripted. He skipped out on Friday’s meetings in time to arrive at Chili Witches by a quarter of twelve. There was already quite a crowd, he noticed, as he stood by the door and surveyed the place.
He spotted Cass talking and laughing with a table of uniformed cops. When she spotted him, she broke away and approached him.
“Hello,” she said, smiling. “Welcome to Chili Witches. Have you been here before?”
A bit puzzled by her behavior, he nevertheless played along. “No. This is a new experience for me. How’s your knee today?”
She frowned. “My knee? It’s fine. Let me find you a seat. Do you have a preference?”
“Surprise me,” he said, grinning.
“Sure. Right this way.” She led him to a table for two by the window and plucked a menu from between a small black