Thieves Like Us by Starr Ambrose Page B

climbed the stairs, looking forward to the whirlpool bath and huge, soft bed.
    Rocky watched her go, but made no move to leave. Elizabeth turned to him, hands folded in front of her, as composed as always. Rocky thought if she were standing on the deck of the
Titanic
as it went down, she would have looked the same.
    “I know you well enough to realize you did not bring Janet here because of some exaggerated hunch.”
    “No, ma’am.”
    “Is she in danger?”
    “Yes.” He looked up the long curve of stairs where Janet had disappeared. “More than she knows.” His gaze went back to Elizabeth. “I know it’s late, but could you call Ben for me? I need to talk to him.”
    “Tonight?”
    He hated to confirm the worry in her eyes, but had no choice. “Yes. As soon as possible.”

Chapter
Four

    R ocky hadn’t been to Ben Thatcher’s small house before, but wasn’t surprised at its immaculate, barely lived-in look. How else could it be, when Ben spent most of his time at the Westfield mansion? Stubborn pride was all that kept him from moving in there, or so Elizabeth claimed. Rocky kept his mouth shut, but sympathized with Ben. The man probably didn’t want to look like he was living off his rich lady friend, especially with his position in this town. Rocky assumed Ben was holding out for marriage. Rocky would be, if it were him. Some guys just preferred the traditional family life of marriage and children, even if it happened in reverse order.
    Ben met him at the side door, barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only rumpled jeans. Running a hand through sleep-tousled hair, he grunted and motioned for Rocky to come in.
    He entered into a small kitchen and took a chair at the table. Ben followed, sat down and hooked his foot around another chair to angle it closer. Propping his feet up on the second chair, he looked at Rocky. “Okay, shoot.”
    Rocky hesitated, distracted by the fact that Elizabeth’s call had gotten Ben out of bed. “I’m sorry to wake you, I guess I lost track of the time.”
    Ben waved his concerns aside. “Liz said there was a problem with Janet. That ex-husband of hers might not be my son, but he is Liz’s son, and Janet was Liz’s daughter-in-law. Still is, by her reckoning. The way I look at it, that makes her my family, too. If she’s in danger, I want to know about it.”
    “There’s a chance I’m overreacting.”
    “I trust your instincts, kid. If you’re worried, I’m worried. Now tell me.”
    Ben’s fingers intertwined above an abdomen that looked washboard hard, even as relaxed as he was. Rocky reminded himself that Ben had only been eighteen when he’d met Elizabeth Payton, fallen in love with the pretty college freshman, and gotten her pregnant. His military service and Elizabeth’s marriage to Leonard Westfield had kept them apart for more than thirty years, and had kept Elizabeth from acknowledging that Jack was Ben’s son. It was only years later, with Elizabeth widowed and Ben single, that they had resumed their relationship.
    Rocky understood how disoriented Jack must have been to find out the local police chief who had harassed him through his teen years was actually his father. Rocky felt a bit disoriented himself. Not many ex-convicts could claim the unquestioned loyalty of the local police chief, but thanks to his friendship with Jack, that’s exactly what he had. He would never take advantage of that relationship for his own benefit, but he wouldn’t hesitate to use it to help Janet.
    As Rocky outlined the day’s events, Ben listened, concern showing in the deepening creases on the older man’s brow and the tightening around his mouth.
    Ben raised a hand to his face, stroking the stubble above his upper lip as he regarded Rocky thoughtfully.
    “You’re right. We’re not talking about ordinary vandalism. Someone’s pretty damn desperate to find something, most likely the rest of that jewelry. And desperate people are dangerous.”
    Rocky nodded and