Protecting Peggy by Maggie Price Page A

business. “I talked to O’Connell for a couple of minutes this morning about the ranch’s water.”
    â€œHe give you any information?”
    â€œOnly that the bacteria that causes cholera isn’t what put your people in the hospital.”
    Blake blinked. “Holy hell, I never thought of cholera.”
    â€œDon’t, because the EPA has ruled it out. They’ve probably ruled out other things, too, but O’Connell isn’t forthcoming. The bottom line is, he isn’t happy about your hiring a private consultant to do the same testing he’s doing.”
    â€œToo bad. I can’t shake the feeling he’s up to something. And that something doesn’t concern the well-being of Hopechest Ranch or its people.”
    â€œYou mentioned on the phone you caught O’Connell having some sort of clandestine meetings at one of the ranch’s hay sheds.”
    â€œRight, it was late evening when I drove by and saw his rented car parked there.”
    â€œYou didn’t get a look at who he was with?”
    â€œAll I saw was the rear of their car. It was white.”
    â€œMaybe he met a woman there,” Rory pointed out. “O’Connell could have been enjoying a literal roll in the hay.”
    â€œPossible.”
    â€œSince he isn’t inclined to share information, I’ll have to run duplicate tests that he’s already had the EPA’s lab run. That’ll take time.”
    â€œDammit, Rory, we may not have time.” Blake clenched his hands into fists. “If someone purposely contaminated the ranch’s water, they might have done it to get back at me, at my family. God knows what the hell they might do next.”
    Rory’s thoughts went back to what Peggy had said in the kitchen that morning when she discovered he knew nothing about the trouble that had befallen Blake the previous year. I thought you and Blake were friends.
    The echo of her words, and the angry frustration he now saw in his friend’s face, had guilt balling in Rory’s throat. If he had been any kind of friend to Blake, he would already know what that trouble was.
    Setting his jaw, Rory shifted his gaze to the far side of the office where a bookcase sat, its shelves lined with obsessively neat rows of leather volumes. Over the years, there had been many times when he could have phoned Blake, just to say hello. Should have phoned him. Rory hadn’t, not once. After all, he was a man who shrugged off relationships. He didn’t like maintaining ties. He always felt it was pointless to look back toward the past or to give much thought to the future. He lived for the moment. The now.
    For the first time in his life, Rory felt the sharp blade of regret for having taken for granted the closest friendship he’d ever had. “I’m sorry, Blake,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what happened to you or your family. Or the reason someone might have to get back at you.”
    Blake rose, moved to the nearest window and stared out. “We haven’t exactly kept in touch, have we?”
    â€œMy fault,” Rory said. “I always put the job first.”
    Blake slid him a look across his shoulder. “Thanks to your dad, you never learned how to do anything else.”
    â€œTrue.” Rory eased out a breath. Blake was one of the few people who knew the history between him and his late father. It was a history that Rory had no desire to discuss.
    â€œLook, we’re not talking about me right now. If you think someone contaminated the water on this ranch as revenge against you, I need to know about it. Everything.”
    Blake ran a palm across the back of his neck. “Christ, you’d think with time, this would get easier to talk about.”
    â€œSome things never get easy.”
    â€œThis is one of them.” With a restless move of his shoulders, Blake walked back to his chair. “My dad’s gone through three