A Texan in Her Bed. Sara Orwig

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      As he read it he received another text, this one from his youngest brother, Tony, also wanting to know about Destiny. Wyatt shook his head and strode through the front door of city hall.

      “Sheriff,” Dwight said, shaking his head, “Argus is dealing with two wrecked cars on the highway and he can’t tow the limo for several hours.”

      “Okay. Val is across the street. Do you know if he found the driver?”

      “He did. The man said he would move the limo when his boss told him to move it.”

      Wyatt smiled and shook his head again. Was she doing this deliberately to get his attention? Beneath her smiles and charm was a strong will. He shook his head and went to his office to call Nick first on his private line.

      “Nick, you have too many questions for a text. I didn’t know she was coming. Yes, I’ve met her. I don’t know about introducing you, but are you sure you want to meet her?”

      “You’ve got to be kidding. Look at the crowd she’s drawn. If you didn’t know she was coming, then the town didn’t know,” Nick replied.

      “I think that’s right.”

      “She knows how to draw a crowd.”

      “All she has to do is walk down the street.”

      “Amen. You’ve got that right. Try to figure some way we can meet her. Tony’s already sent me a text. How come you’re not out there?”

      “I’ve already met her, and my deputy is there.”

      “So you’ve talked to her.”

      “A little. I’ll get you the introduction, and I’ll call you about when and where.”

      “Thanks, Wyatt. She said she’s staying at the Verity Hotel.”

      “So she told everyone, including the press, where she’ll be. The lady does want attention. Don’t tell me you’re going to hang out in the lobby?”

      Nick chuckled. “Hardly. No, I’ll meet her, but not that way. Thanks for calling.”

      “I’ll keep in touch.”

      Wyatt sent Tony a text. Three minutes later his phone rang.

      “I’m watching Destiny Jones in Verity on TV.”

      “I’m sure you are. I’ve talked to Nick and I promise I’ll introduce both of you sometime.”

      “Cool. Don’t forget. Right now you’re missing her interview.”

      “I’ll live. Talk to you soon, Tony.” Wyatt picked up an iPad from his desk and switched to the television cable to pick up her interview. He watched her deftly field questions, give answers that would bring laughter and generally captivate the audience. He gazed at her green eyes and auburn hair. It wouldn’t matter if she had mumbled and had nothing to say. She was gorgeous and charming and her audience was enchanted.

      Wyatt’s jaw clamped shut a little more tightly as he listened to her talk about wanting to learn about Lavita Wrenville and how fascinating Verity’s history was, including the Milan-Calhoun feud. Each minute he watched her his hopes sank lower because at dinner he had hoped to discourage her from using the unsolved murders at the Wrenville house for a show. There would be no way, now that she’d spoken about it to the media, that she’d pack up and go back to Chicago.

      He thought about her parking the red limo in his space. That had not been a casual, thoughtless event. She wanted the town’s attention and she had known exactly what she was doing then, just as she knew what she was doing now in talking to the crowd that was still growing. Shortly, he would have to go out there and break it up because they would be blocking traffic on Main if many more people came to watch her.

      Even as he thought that and watched, she told the crowd farewell. A man stepped in front of her and a woman moved on one side of her. To Wyatt’s surprise Val moved beside her on the other side as a second woman fell in behind them. They crossed the street, the man in the lead clearing the way while a smaller crowd flowed with her. When they reached the red limo, the man leading the way held the door. She turned to smile and wave at the crowd, thanking them, throwing them a kiss and then vanishing into the limo, followed by the two women, the tinted windows hiding the interior. In seconds the limo slowly eased from the curb and the crowd dispersed.

      He switched off the iPad and stood, rubbing the back of his neck.

      He had mixed feelings about dinner with her, but his desire to spend the evening with her outweighed his dislike of having to deal with her about the Wrenville murders and the old family feud. Seven o’clock couldn’t come too soon.

      Wyatt nodded. This might be a night to remember.