druggie mother had abandoned him at a sheriff’s office when he was seven, and since she wasn’t even sure who his father was, that hadn’t been an option. When Dallas hadn’t been a good fit and a troublemaker to boot in the half-dozen foster homes where he’d been sent, he’d ended up in reform school. After that, Rocky Creek became a place of last resort.
And his home.
That H word obviously didn’t have the same warm, fuzzy memories that it did for other kids, but reform school, Rocky Creek and his abandoning mother hadn’t broken him. His past had actually given him the drive to make something better of himself.
Apparently, it’d done the same for Joelle, though she’d been placed there for a different kind of abandonment. When her parents had been killed in a car accident, they’d left provisions in their will for her to be taken to Rocky Creek because a relative worked there. Of course, by the time Joelle had arrived, the relative had been long gone, and she’d been on her own.
Until they’d found each other, that is.
“You okay?” Joelle asked him.
He hadn’t realized she was staring at him, obviously noting his less than happy expression. “Yeah.” And that wasn’t a lie. “You?”
No yeah from her. “I just want to finish this.”
He was on the same page with her when it came to that.
Dallas pulled to a stop in the driveway in front of the entrance of the sprawling redbrick building. The grounds were in good shape. The trees were all trimmed. The flower beds were weed-free. He’d expected to see the place in total disrepair, but it looked pretty much the same as it had sixteen years ago.
“Rudy and Sarah still take care of the place?” he asked.
“Yes. Rudy does the grounds. And Sarah cleans the place—often, from the looks of it. Well, she did before her husband’s body was found and the inquiry started. After that, the state had the doors locked.”
It made sense. Basic precautions had to be taken in case there was any evidence left inside, and it was a plenty big enough place for there to be some hidden evidence.
He hoped so, anyway.
Dallas stepped from his truck. Looked around. Not just at the facility but at the wooded area and grounds. He was certain no one had followed them, but their attackers were still at large so he had to take precautions.
Joelle got out as well and had her own look around. She wobbled a little on the pebbled drive and had to catch on to the truck to steady herself while she raked a small rock from her high heel.
“Not exactly the best shoes for a trek like this,” he mumbled.
Or for keeping his attention off her. He could say the same for the entire outfit. A pale blue skirt and top that seemed to skim every curve of her body, and she had some curves, all right. The heels didn’t help, either. They weren’t exactly high, but they showed off her legs.
Yet something else that he’d always admired.
“The shoes and two similar outfits were all I’d brought with me,” she explained. “I hadn’t packed for an investigation.”
No. She’d packed for a honeymoon. Dallas’s stomach clenched at the thought of her wearing that outfit for Owen. Or wearing anything for him for that matter. Heck, his stomach clenched more at the thought of Owen looking at her while she was wearing nothing.
Oh, man.
He was a lost cause, and he forced his brain to dwell on something other than the shape of Joelle’s butt.
Dallas cleared his throat, hoping it would also clear his head, and he walked up the steps. “I’m surprised the state hasn’t torn the place down by now.”
“They can’t. The man who donated it back in the fifties put a stipulation in his will that it couldn’t be removed, only renovated. So far, no one seems eager to do that, and the state doesn’t have the desire or the money.”
Because places like this were dinosaurs, thank God.
“Sarah’s and Rudy’s salaries are paid from the donor’s estate,” she added. “I guess that’s one of the reasons they stay on.”
It’d take a heck of a lot more than a paycheck for Dallas to continue to live here.
Joelle fished through the laptop bag she’d brought with her and came out with the keys to open the padlock on the metal bar latch that stretched across the double front doors.
“Where’d you get the keys?” Dallas asked.
“The governor’s office.”
They stepped inside, and Dallas looked