Fool's Gold Collection Volume 3. Susan Mallery

Despite her height, he was still a good half foot taller.

      “You know you make me crazy, right?” he asked.

      She hugged him back. “Yes, but I don’t do it on purpose.”

      “I know.”

      She looked up at him. “Now what?”

      “Now we get your ranch.”

       CHAPTER TWO

      HEIDI STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of Fool’s Gold, not sure what to do first. Glen needed her help, and she needed a lawyer. Not that she had any money to pay one, but that was a problem for another time. Right now, the pressing issue was getting her grandfather out of jail.

      She turned in a slow circle, seeing the sign for Morgan’s Books and the Starbucks where she hung out with her friends. There was Jo’s Bar, but no large banner proclaiming “excellent and free legal advice here!”

      Pulling out her phone, she scrolled until she found Charlie’s number, then sent a quick text: Urgent. Can we talk?

      Seconds later, came the reply: Sure. At the station.

      “The station” being the city fire station. Heidi left her truck where it was and walked the short three blocks to the firehouse.

      The firehouse was in the oldest part of town. It was a two-story brick-and-wood structure with big garage doors facing the street. They stood open in the warm April afternoon. Charlie Dixon was waiting by the red fire engine she drove.

      “What’s up?” she asked as Heidi hurried forward.

      “There’s a problem with Glen.”

      Charlie, a tall, competent woman who had never met a man she couldn’t beat at anything, put her strong hands on her narrow hips and raised her eyebrows.

      “He’s your grandfather. How much trouble could he be in?”

      “You have no idea.”

      Heidi quickly brought her friend up to date on Glen, the perky widow he’d swindled, the mysterious and ruthless Rafe Stryker, and the fact that Glen was now sitting in the Fool’s Gold jail.

      Charlie swore. “It’s so like a man to make all this mess,” she grumbled. “Glen seriously sold someone your ranch?”

      Heidi sighed. “There was paperwork and everything.”

      This wasn’t the first time her grandfather had flirted with the wrong side of the law, but generally he kept his scams smaller and avoided the felony category. For the past few years, all she’d had to worry about was his propensity to have a woman in every city. For a guy in his seventies, he got a lot of action.

      “I need to get him out of there,” Heidi said. “He’s the only family I have.”

      “I know. Okay, stay calm. I mean that. Fool’s Gold jail isn’t exactly grim. He’ll be fine there. As to getting him out—” She looked at Heidi. “Don’t take this wrong, but do you have any money?”

      Heidi winced as she thought about the sad little balance in her checking account. “I’ve put everything I have into my goats.”

      “There’s a mortgage on the ranch?”

      “A big one.”

      Charlie gave her a quick hug. “Living the American dream.”

      “I was,” Heidi told her, appreciating the physical support. “Until this happened.”

      She didn’t mind making the monthly payments to the bank. They were a sign of stability, proof she had a home, something she would one day own outright.

      “I know a lawyer,” Charlie said. “She takes on pro bono cases from time to time. Let me call and talk to her, then I’ll send you over.”

      “You think she’ll help me?”

      Charlie grinned. “She adores me. I used to date her son. When we broke up, he got involved with some bimbo, got her pregnant and had to get married. While he’s wildly in love with his new bride and family, Trisha thinks of me as the one who got away.”

      Charlie was the least feminine woman Heidi knew. She wore her hair short, dressed for comfort rather than fashion and would deck anyone who came at her with mascara. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t attractive, in a low-maintenance kind of way. Heidi had seen guys around town watching Charlie. As if they suspected she was the kind of woman who was hard to tame, but once loyal, would be a wild ride for life.

      “His loss,” Heidi told her.

      “You’re a good friend.”

      “So are you. I didn’t know who else to talk to about Glen.”

      She had other friends, but she’d known instinctively that Charlie would cut to the heart of the problem, help sort it out and then move on without making a fuss.

      “We’ll get this fixed.”

      Heidi hung on to that promise. Her parents had died when she was a toddler. She didn’t remember them. Glen had stepped in to raise her. From that moment on, they’d been a team. No matter what he’d done, Heidi would stand by her grandfather. Even if that meant taking on the likes of Rafe Stryker.

      * * *

      ACCORDING TO CHARLIE, TRISHA Wynn should be in her sixties, but she looked forty and dressed as if she were twenty-five. Her dress—a pink-and-gold wrap with a plunging neckline—clung to impressive curves. Her heels were high, her makeup heavy and her earrings jangled.

      “Any friend of Charlie’s,” Trisha said by way of greeting, waving Heidi into her small but comfortable office. “So Glen got himself into some trouble. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

      Heidi sank into the comfortable leather visitor’s chair. “You know my grandfather?”

      Trisha winked. “We had a long weekend together last fall up at the resort. A suite with a fireplace, plenty of room service. I generally avoid older men, but for Glen I made an exception. It was worth it.”

      Heidi did her best to smile and nod, when she

      really wanted to stick her fingers into her ears and start humming. She never wanted to hear the details about her grandfather’s personal life, and right now it was especially unwelcome.

      “Yes, well, I’m glad you were, ah, pleased,” she began.

      Trisha’s smile widened. “That’s one way to describe it. So, what has Glen done now?”

      For the second time in an hour, Heidi explained about Glen, May Stryker and her son. Trisha listened, taking notes as Heidi spoke.

      “You don’t have the money to pay May back.”

      Trisha made a statement rather than asking a question, but Heidi answered it, anyway. “I don’t have any money, to speak of. I have twenty-five hundred dollars in my savings account, and that’s it.”

      Trisha flinched. “Word to the wise. Don’t ever tell a lawyer that.”

      “Oh. Charlie said—well, implied—that you might take this on pro bono.”

      Trisha steepled her bright fuchsia fingernails. “I do take on a few cases like that. Mostly because they interest me or because I’m guilted into it. My fourth husband, may he rest in peace, left me very well off. So it’s not like I need the money. Still, it’s nice to be paid.”

      Heidi wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she kept her mouth shut.

      Trisha leaned back in her chair. “Here are the major problems as I see them. First, taking two hundred and fifty thousand dollars isn’t something any judge is going to find amusing. We’re so far into felony territory that Glen could be put away for years.