Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(64)



He was puzzled and went to look over his son’s shoulder. His eyes widened. “Now wait a minute, son. We need to talk about this.” He glared at all three women. “The three of you were quite rude. I only hope this doesn’t get back to Edgar Rothschild.”

Ross tore the check from the book and stalked over to his mother, thrusting it into her face. “This is the current per square foot valuation of each structure, per the tax rolls, which you have records of. I want to buy both buildings outright.”

For the first time, Clara’s gaze softened. She barely glanced at the generous sum. She moved Ross’s arm away from her face and clasped his wrist. “Ross, you know we don’t want the money. It’s the principle involved—”

“You mean the principle that states I own a majority share in the trust and have the right to buy the buildings at my discretion? Or that I’m managing member and am ultimately responsible for the details of the development? Well, I’ve made an executive decision. Mercy Magdalena Rothschild is going to develop these buildings, with or without the trust’s approval.”

Elaine gasped. Ross’s cold gaze turned on her. “Elaine, I don’t want to be rude, but you should have notified me you intended to come—”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Elaine protested. “Your mother and aunt invited me—”

“And I would have asked you to please stay away if I’d been warned. If I’d had any doubts about my feelings for you, this has settled them, so I thank the three of you for that.” Since his mother refused to take the check, Ross tucked it in his father’s shirt pocket. “Now, please let this be the end of the debate over the buildings so we can all enjoy our two days together. I’ll have my attorney draw up the appropriate contracts and forward them to you next week.”

Ross went to the door and opened it. “José has breakfast ready, and his biscuits can only be appreciated piping hot.” Though he didn’t know it, he looked very like his mother at that moment as he eyed his family members one by one, daring them to argue. They trooped to the door, but his mother exited last and looked up at him.

“Ross, I’m only trying to protect you from an opportunist. I had this girl investigated before we came, and her part of the Rothschild family is penniless. They only have what they earn. From all accounts, her father is . . . in sales. He’s not very close to his family, and I’ve heard this girl’s older half sister is, well, scandalous. Elaine is a much better match for you.”

Ross’s eyes lost their icy sheen, becoming incandescent as his pupils expanded in anger. “I don’t want Elaine. I want Emm. Deal with it. She’s going to be my wife—if she’ll have me after this fiasco. And if you don’t make amends with her, it will be her decision whether you ever darken my door again. Now leave me the hell alone before I say something I’ll really regret.”

And Ross marched out, leaving his mother staring after him openmouthed.





Emm was still crying when she reached town, and she had to drive around for a bit to calm herself before her luncheon with Curt. She repaired her makeup in her car mirror, took a deep breath, and entered the restaurant. He was tapping his fingers on the tablecloth when she entered. She was glad of the low lighting.

She plopped down in the booth across from him. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’ve just come from the Sinclair homestead, where I gave my presentation on the buildings to Ross’s family.”

Curt’s reporter’s ears pricked up. “How did that go? I’ve heard the older females of the family are . . . trying.”

Emm laughed shortly. “That’s a more charitable way than I’d put it.” She sipped her ice water, unaware she was still trembling slightly until her teeth chattered a bit against the glass. She set it down, taking deep breaths.

Sympathy softening his face, Curt shook his head wryly. “We don’t always want what’s good for us, do we?”

“No, but in this case I think what’s good for me tastes bitter but will be efficacious in the end. We’d never . . . have worked out anyway. What would I do in Amarillo, Texas?” She took a sip of hot tea as soon as the waitress delivered it. The warm mint steadied her enough for the shaking to stop. “But enough of my love life, such as it is. We’ve been friends for a while, so I’ll be crystal clear. I had an ulterior motive for inviting you here.” She reached across the table to cover Curt’s restless hand.

He stiffened. “And what’s that?”

“I need you to fly to Mexico City with me. Today, if possible.”

“What?”

“I know you have a charter jet service, and that’s perfect for this particular. . . outing. We need to get into the city quietly, and we’ll probably need to get out even more quietly. The private jet will be much harder for anyone to track. Both outgoing and incoming, preferably straight back to Baltimore.”

Curt was already shaking his head. “I haven’t the faintest idea where Yancy is; you know that. All this speculation about my affairs is just that, and I’m not happy you think I could be even peripherally involved in something so distasteful as human trafficking.”

“At this moment, I don’t care whether you’re involved or not, though the brutal truth is if you are, it would certainly give us easier access. I’m not doing this in collaboration with any authorities,” Emm said grimly. “In fact, if Ross knew what I’m contemplating, he’d probably throw me in jail for obstruction.”

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