Birthright

nod toward her forehead, “he deserves to get his hand broke for it.”
    “Another point of agreement,” Jake told him.
    “Well . . . that’s all I got to say.” He gave another nod, then lumbered back across the dig.
    “Well, that was entertaining.” Callie patted her pocket. “No way that goofball shot at you. Why were you about to challenge him to the best two out of three throws?”
    “He walked in with a chip on his shoulder I felt obliged to knock off. Said he didn’t have dick to say to me, and so on, which, naturally, meant we had to insult each other for a little while. What might have been some good, bloody fun was spoiled when you walked up and he saw your face.”
    Jake reached out, gently fluttered her bangs. “I hope this is a new look and not an attempt to disguise that knot.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Because it’s not a bad look, but it’s a pitiful disguise.” He leaned down, touched his lips gently to the bruise. “How’s it feel today?”
    “Like I got hit with a tree.”
    “I bet. Who’s the old guy?”
    She looked back to see Roger hunkered down at a segment between Bill and Matt. “Roger Grogan. Suzanne’s father. I went by to talk to him this morning. He’s . . . he’s pretty terrific. I’m going to show him around.”
    “Introduce me.” He took her hand. “We’ll show him around.” He only tightened his grip when she tried to tug away. “Be a sport. It drives Bill crazy when I touch you.”
    “Leave the kid alone. He’s harmless.”
    “He wants to nibble on your toes while he worships at your feet.” Deliberately he brought her hand to his lips. “If he had a gun, I’d be bleeding from multiple wounds right now.”
    “You’re a mean son of a bitch.”
    He laughed, released her hand only to sling an arm around her shoulders. “That’s what you love about me, babe.”
    C allie was just setting out her tools the next morning, mentally reviewing her sector for the day when Lana pulled up.
    Mildly amused, Callie watched her go through the gate, look down at her pretty heels, roll her eyes and begin to cross the field.
    “Isn’t this a little early for a lawyer to be up and about?” Callie called out.
    “Not when the lawyer has a kid to get to preschool and a dog to get to the vet.” She tipped her sunglasses down as she got closer and winced as she studied Callie’s forehead. “Ouch.”
    “You can say that again.”
    “I’d like to point out that hearing about my client’s nocturnal adventures second- and third-hand is a bit embarrassing. You should’ve called me.”
    “I don’t know who to sue over it.”
    “The police don’t have any suspects?”
    “They dug a slug out of a poplar. They find the gun it came from, I guess they’ll have a suspect.”
    “Why aren’t you scared?”
    “I am. Jake said the shot missed him by five feet, and I have to believe he’s being straight about that. But the fact is, someone was out there shooting. Somebody was out here, doing worse than that.”
    “Do you think they’re connected incidents?”
    “The sheriff doesn’t seem to think so but he’s pretty tight-lipped. It’s just speculation. Some people don’t like having us here. One way to get us gone is to mess up the project. A dead body and gunfire mess it up pretty good.”
    “I have some news that’s not going to make you any happier.”
    “The investigator.”
    “We’ll start there. Carlyle’s son isn’t being forthcoming. He told the investigator he doesn’t know where his father is, and if he did, it wouldn’t be any of the investigator’s business.”
    “I want him to keep at it.”
    “It’s your nickel.”
    “I’ve got a few more to spare.” She blew out a breath. “Just a few,” she admitted. “But I can handle it for another couple of weeks.”
    “Just let me know when you need to reevaluate the expenses. I like the bangs, by the way.”
    “Yeah?” Callie gave them a little tug. “They’re going to annoy me when they get in my eyes.”
    “That’s why salons were invented. The next portion of my morning’s agenda has to deal with town gossip.”
    “Should I get the coffee and cookies?”
    “You could come up here. If I come down there, these shoes are toast.” She glanced around the dig as Callie set her tools aside.
    There was, as always, the clink of tools on rock, the swish of them in dirt. Running over it was a babble of music. It was hot, the kind of hot that made her feel sticky two minutes after