Love Under Two Montanans [The Lusty, Texas Collection] by Cara Covington (feel good novels TXT) 📕

was no reason for the man to be in his face now. They had a deal, damn it. And you’re just an idiot if you believe in honor among thugs.

He pushed aside his inner voice and pretended he hadn’t heard Carp’s opening line. “To what do I owe the honor of your company?” It was clear to Vance that Carp didn’t recognize sarcasm when he heard it.

Brody Carp tilted his head to the side. “I’m a curious man, Mr. Vance.”

“Indeed?” Vance could remain calm in the criminal’s presence. What he couldn’t do, could never do, was treat the man as if he was just another business associate, as if he was Vance’s equal. I was born into the Featherstone family. I can trace my lineage back to the first American settlers to arrive in Texas. I’m someone, by God.

“Indeed.”

The waiter came to the table, set Vance’s meal before him, and then turned an inquiring glance to Carp. Vance took a moment to rein in his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to let his mind wander or his temper grow. He need to find some discipline.

“I’ll just have coffee,” Carp said. “I won’t be here long.”

The waiter nodded and departed, presumably to get the man his caffeine. I hope the pot’s a couple of hours old and tastes burnt. It was all Vance could do not to chuckle.

“Here’s what I’m wondering about. I happen to know your aunt’s last will and testament was read last week and that you’re likely awaiting a check from the lawyer. I expected you to do any number of things on the heels of that happy day. And yet what I discovered is you’re looking for a young woman. An heiress, I’ve been told. And I have to ask myself, ‘did ol’ Dougie get a windfall from his late relative, or not?’”

How did Carp find out about that? Vance mentally sighed. That flat rate P.I. I hired likely sold the information to this bottom-feeding piece of shit.

Brody Carp might look like a successful businessman. He wore Armani, head to toe, and had his hair styled, not cut like a real man. But underneath the veneer, at the center of the man, was nothing more than a common criminal. A thug. All the world’s a thug. Yes, it was. What chance did a well-bred man like Vance have anymore?

“Since it’s not yet time for me to repay the amount we agreed upon, Mr. Carp, I fail to see how anything I do is of any concern of yours at all. You think I’m looking for an heiress? That’s absurd of course, but thinking about it just now, I understand how you’d come to such a conclusion.” He sat back and let the man see the contempt he felt. “Sometimes a bottom-feeding piece of scum—the investigator I hired comes to mind and not present company, of course—needs the incentive of the possibility of a bonus payout in order to get the job done.” Vance chuckled. “I had no idea the bastard was one of your minions. That’s very unfortunate.” Holding Carp’s gaze, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

“Mr. Kendrin, Douglas Vance here. Do you have any progress to report?” Vance listened as the man gave him a long, rambling excuse as to why he allegedly had nothing to report. He definitely believed the man had discovered something, and that information had been sold to Carp. Mad as hell, Vance held on to his temper. “I see. Well, then, since you’ve nothing to report, and have made no progress, you’re fired. Effective immediately. The cash you’ve already been advanced is the only money you’ll get out of me.” He didn’t bother with a polite good-bye. He simply ended the call, set his phone down, and returned his attention to his lunch.

He had no appetite and the food tasted like sawdust, but he kept eating. As he chewed, he looked Brody Carp in the eyes, determined not to blink. He likely would have caved, he would have been the one to look away first, but a fine and fiery rage now burned within him. This rage was the most empowering force Doulas Vance had ever felt. First that decrepit old bitch had pulled a fast one over on him by changing her will, and now this thug was trying to do the same by insinuating himself into Vance’s business. He was damned fed up with others trying to cheat him out of what was his due.

Carp flicked a glance at whoever was behind Vance. When the criminal’s gaze was on him again, Vance gave him the smallest of nods and returned his attention to his food.

The waiter delivered a cup of coffee and set it before Carp. The man ignored it and got to his feet. “I guess I’ll see you at the end of the month, then. Enjoy your lunch.”

Vance counted off three minutes. He continued to eat and to sip his water. He paused and sat back. If Brody Carp knew for certain that Vance wasn’t going to be getting the size of inheritance he’d expected, the thug would have let him know just that. But he hadn’t, so that was a point in his favor.

Brody Carp had a long reach into the city’s crime-riddled underbelly but not much influence when it came to the upper echelons of power, Vance would bet. So, he wouldn’t necessarily know the terms of Amanda Featherstone’s will. Of course, that would change as soon as probate was complete. Once a will was probated, it generally became available to the public.

Doug Vance had maybe a couple of days before Amanda’s final wishes became public knowledge. Since he would have enough cash to pay Carp, he wondered what the bastard’s game could possibly be.

In the meantime, he’d fired the only man he could afford to hire to find Amanda Featherstone’s granddaughter. Now, he’d have to do the job himself. The rage returned, this time with a will of its own. The