A Little Texas Two-Step. Peggy Moreland

“Are you here?”

      She waited a moment, listening, but only the muted click of her mantel clock as it ticked off each second disturbed the quiet. If he wasn’t here, she knew he had been. The scent of his cologne still hung thick in the air. But how did he get in? she asked herself in growing dread. She’d changed the locks after she’d kicked him out more than a year before.

      The handle of her suitcase slipped from her fingers, and she drew her shaking fingers to her lips. Her key ring! She’d given him her key ring over a month ago when he’d offered to take her car in for repairs.

      Her fingers closed into a fist against her lips as she remembered the incident. Of course, he hadn’t had her car repaired. Instead, he’d paid some shady mechanic a pittance of what she’d given him and instructed the man to do what he could without replacing the transmission, then pocketed the rest of the money for himself. Naturally, Roger hadn’t told her about his clever little scheme. She’d discovered it on her own, weeks later, when the transmission had gone out on her in the middle of Houston’s five-o’clock traffic.

      She was sure that at the same time Roger had been having her car repaired, he’d probably had a duplicate set of keys made to every key on her ring...including the one to her apartment.

      Anger burned through her. She knew better than to trust her ex-husband. Hadn’t she learned anything during the four years of their marriage? He was the master of lies and deception. And she knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t think twice about stealing from her. He’d done it often enough in the past. A twenty here, a hundred there, missing from her purse. After their divorce, he’d even taken her wedding ring from her jewelry box and pawned it, spending the money on some new scam.

      Money! Her fingers curled around the key ring as a new fear rose. With her heart thundering against her chest, she ran to the kitchen and jerked a canister from those that lined the counter beside the sink...and listened to the sick clink of loose coins. She knew even before she opened it that it was gone. All that she’d managed to save toward the purchase of a new car. She tipped the canister upside down, and pennies rained onto the floor

      Tears swelled and the canister blurred before her eyes. Raising the container above her head, she screamed, “Damn you, Roger‘” and hurled it against the far wall where it shattered into a hundred jagged pieces right along with her dreams for a new car.

      

      Reggie Giles frowned at the open apartment door then stepped inside, knocking on the door as she passed. “Leighanna?” she called as she stopped in the living room. “Leighanna, where are you?”

      “I’m back here,” came Leighanna’s muffled reply. “In my room.”

      Anxious to hear about Leighanna’s visit with their friend Mary Claire in her new home in Temptation, Reggie headed down the short hall.

      “Did you know you left your front door open?” she scolded. “Anybody could come in and—”

      At the door to Leighanna’s bedroom, Reggie stopped cold. A suitcase lay on the bed, a tangle of clothes and shoes tumbled over its side, wire hangers were scattered over the floor. Leighanna stood in front of the dresser, jerking handfuls of lingerie and socks from the drawers.

      Reggie let out a slow, long breath, unsure of what was happening. “Are you coming or going?” she asked uneasily.

      Leighanna whirled. Her eyes were red, her cheeks mottled by anger. “Going!” She marched past Reggie and dumped the load she carried into the suitcase.

      “Where?” Reggie asked.

      “I’m moving out.”

      Fear knotted in Reggie’s stomach. Leighanna was like family to her, as was Mary Claire, and she’d already lost Mary Claire and her children when they’d moved to Temptation. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Leighanna, too.

      When Leighanna brushed past her again, headed for the dresser, Reggie grabbed her arm. “Wait a second,” she said, hoping to slow Leighanna down long enough to find out what was behind this quick exodus. “Why are you moving out?”

      Leighanna jerked free of Reggie’s hold. “Roger!” she snapped, and marched on to the dresser. She snatched an armful of clothing from the bottom drawer, then kicked it closed with her foot.

      Reggie could only stare. She had never seen Leighanna like this before. Always calm, soft-spoken, Leighanna seldom lost her temper. She was generous and loving and giving...even to that scumball of an ex-husband of hers, Roger.

      And that’s exactly what he was, too, Reggie thought angrily. Leighanna might have been blinded to his faults, but Reggie had never been. She had leased Roger the apartment four years ago when he’d first married Leighanna and would have kicked the loser out years ago when his first rent check had bounced if she hadn’t felt sorry for his poor wife. She’d held Leighanna’s hand throughout the divorce, had even tried to open Leighanna’s eyes to his scheming ways when he would drop by periodically after their divorce, trying to borrow money from her. But Leighanna was naive and totally trusting, and never saw through his deceit until it was too late.

      That he was behind this fit of temper didn’t surprise her. What worried her was what Roger had done to provoke it.

      “What does he have to do with your moving out?” she asked uneasily.

      Leighanna turned on Reggie, her hands filled with clothes, her blue eyes wild with anger. “You’d think it would be enough for him that he ruined my life right along with my credit, wouldn’t you?” she raged. “But, no! Not Roger! He’s like that damn bunny in the battery commercial, pounding his drum. He just keeps going and going and going!”

      Reggie sank to the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumping. “What has he done now?” she asked in resignation.

      Leighanna threw the armload of clothes into the suitcase and planted her hands on her hips as she whirled to face Reggie. “He came into my apartment while I was gone to visit Mary Claire and stole all my money from the cookie jar.”

      Reggie was on her feet in a flash. “He did what?” she cried.

      “He stole my money! All that I had saved to buy a new car.”

      Angry now herself, Reggie paced away, fisting her hands at her sides. “Well, he won’t get away with it this time. Not if I have any say in the matter.” Always ready to take charge, Reggie mentally listed what would need to be done. “We’re calling the police. We’ll file charges for breaking and entering and for burglary. When they find him, they’ll throw his lousy butt in jail, and this time we’ll see that they throw away the key.” She stopped and wheeled, thrusting a warning finger at Leighanna. “Don’t touch another thing,” she ordered. “The police will need to dust the apartment for prints.”

      Leighanna went right on throwing clothes into the suitcase. “Forget it, Reggie. The police can’t do anything.”

      “And why not?” she asked incredulously. “He broke into your apartment and stole your money. Last I remember, that’s still a crime.”

      “He didn’t break in. He used a key.”

      “A key!” Reggie all but screamed. “For God’s sake, Leighanna, you gave him a key?”

      “No, I didn’t give him a key.” The fight suddenly went out of Leighanna and she dropped down on the edge of the bed and covered her face with her hands. “He must have had a duplicate made last month when he took my car to have it repaired.”

      “Repaired?” Reggie repeated sarcastically. “You mean when he fleeced you of the repair money, don’t you?” She dropped down on the bed beside Leighanna in frustration. “Geez, Leighanna! When will you ever learn? The man can’t be trusted.”

      Leighanna dragged her hands down her face then tipped her face to the ceiling. “I know. I know,” she said miserably. “But he said he knew somebody who could replace the transmission cheaper, and that he wanted to do it for